Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom
by AnnF
Summary: The first time Harry escapes his monitors after events in Dumbledore's office he receives a letter from Sirius that may be the key to a decent life.
1. A Letter from the Lost

_Don't own it, don't want to._

_** Part One **  
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* * *

**  
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_Neither can live while the other survives_. Harry couldn't help wondering if the prophecy Dumbledore showed him in the pensive was edited or cut off. _Neither can live while the other survives?_ Since Sirius' death the very portraits all seemed to have their eyes on him. The DA, the teachers, except Snape, and the fifth year dorm was suddenly cleaner than ever before. This morning he had intentionally left something out each time he went to change books, and each time everything was back to perfect.

The only good thing about Ron and Hermione being laid up in the infirmary was that they weren't watching him constantly too. As long as he spent the majority of the time he had free (since the post OWL variety classes were canceled without notice), the eyes would roam a bit after his visit. Today he chose to grab a blueberry scone from the kitchen and walk rather than eat in the infirmary. The portraits were still abnormally silent as he passed, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing at some of the younger portraits frantic attempts at stealth, eyes darting and sliding from one side of the portrait to the other.

He tickled the pear on the portrait, and didn't need to call for help as Dobby skittered to a halt in front of him. "Morning, Dobby."

"Good morning, Harry Potter, sir. Youse up early today."

"A whole half hour before breakfast in the Hall, but 6 is a good time to catch the end of the sunrise. So could you get me a blueberry scone, Dobby, I want to go for a walk."

"Yes, Harry Potter, one blueberry scone." Dobby dashed around the corner of the kitchen, nearly knocking over other elves in his haste, and then popped right back in front of Harry. "Here, Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter needs to be careful not to wander too far Master Dumbledore saying Harry Potter needs to have a close eye on."

Harry hid a grimace. "Thank you, Dobby. Just need to get some fresh air." Harry took the scone, and quickly made his way outside, though still managing to avoid the passages preferred by most professors. He walked down to the lake, munching on the scone, and scattering the crumbs from his shirt every so often. He savored the taste of the warm blueberries dissolving in his mouth, and the freedom to let there be crumbs to fall, let alone to allow them too. At the Dursleys', he never knew what meal might be his last for some time, so he always ate even the burned bits, and more than once, had eaten the scraps left on the dishes before he washed them.

The last of the scone gone, Harry licked the lingering stickiness from each finger, as he contemplated the dew hanging from the blades of grass. He stopped here, near the shady side of the lake, the sun was already burning away the dew on the other side. With a quick spell, he conjured a blanket, and sat down, staring at the last bits of the sunrise reflected in the lake. So many things had gone wrong this year, no longer was Hogwarts safe.

He was only 15. He had already been close to death a dozen times or so, mostly here at the 'safest place in the Wizardry World'. Why hadn't anyone ever suggested he go abroad? All Voldemort's lackeys were based here in Britain, and Eastern Europe – wouldn't it be safer for him anywhere else? But of course, then Dumbledore couldn't lock him in his office. Harry sighed, and focused back on the light flickering across the lake.

Soon, a he became aware of a tawny owl butting its head against his leg. He glanced at the sun, reminding himself for the umpteenth time to by a new watch. The owl butted his leg again. "Hang on. You caught me outside so I don't have any treats for you." He carefully untied the letter and set it on the ground in front of the blanket, then pulled out his wand from his sleeve. The wax seal looked like it was from Gringotts, but it was past time he learned something from Moody. (Open)

_Harry,_

_Though I was never wise enough to plan for my own future, I felt I owed you a better **map** than was given to me by my parents. If you receive this letter, the goblins will globes have registered me as missing or dead for at least a week. I'm sorry I'm not going to be there for you, and I beg you to forgive me for not being able to be there for you. If Voldemort or his men got me, please place the blame where it belongs – old snakeface._

_I love you, and as your Godfather I owe you so much more than I have been able to give you. You are a more honorable man than I have ever been, and I only wish I could have given you the childhood you were cheated out of. Instead all I can leave, is all I had. There is no **password** to happiness, but you should spend all the Black fortune on jokes, clothes, butterbeer, and whatever the newest broom is._

_You'll receive more from the Goblins. They'll probably be a million papers for you to sign, and you'll need to find yourself a neutral lawyer, there should be a good directory in the library. Make sure you check out who there previous clients were. If you can find someone who beat the Malfoys in a civil matter, that would be a good start._

_Don't grieve for me too long, I'm probably playing pranks on your parents right now. All those who love you want you to be  
happy, you've been failed too many times. I'm sorry, I couldn't give you a childhood. I love you._

_Snuffles._

He cried. When his nose was clogged with snot, and his eyes were fuzzy he finally grabbed the corner of the blanket, and used a corner of it to wipe his face then blow his nose. Conscious of the increasing noise, probably signaling the release from breakfast, Harry quickly evansecoed the blanket. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." He tapped the letter, which then morphed into a box. He quickly glanced around, no one was nearby, though there looked to be a pick-up game of quidditch starting over on the pitch. Harry opened the box.


	2. Opening Pandora's Box

**I'm doing this for fun**_  
_

_Opening Pandora's Box_

* * *

Inside there were a few books, a dragonhide vest, a stack of parchments, some keys, a map, and what looked to be photo albums and diaries. How Sirius had managed to fit all this into a parchment was a spell he needed to learn. He picked up the stack of parchments, and began to read.

Harry,

Hopefully you've figured out my letter on the first try. There will be two more packages arriving first when you leave Hogwarts, and the last a week after. Don't read this package in any room with a portrait or a statue, they're how Dumble knows all about the Castle at times. You'll need to be free from Dumble's wards, so go to the park or something. First off, put on the vest under the rest of your clothes, any minor protection you have is worth it for the seconds of time it can save you in a duel. If you have heard the prophecy from Dumble, you know why you are in danger, some spy of SnakeFace heard the beginning and set him after you. But, your mother and father went into hiding long before the prophecy. Nearly every dwelling in Britain had as many wards as the wizards living in them could cast or could afford others to cast. When Dumble told your parents to move again, and we botched up the Fidelis, that was the third house your parents had been in since their marriage. It was the danger of their jobs, their choice to fight Voldemort, and all our mistaken beliefs in the Order.

I've had months here to do nothing but think. I'm sorry if you believe Dumbledore is the best and all that, but please hear me out. Nothing in your life is how your parents wanted. With the times being what they were they revised their will more often than a eighty year old man about to marry a nineteen year old pole dancer. They had plans and back up plans, and tried their best to insure that if you weren't raised with the love and affection they wanted that there would be consequences, let alone the abuse you've suffered. Harry, no one should have a cupboard for a room, no little child should have to cook breakfast and do the dishes and never get a bite for himself. There shouldn't be locks outside the door you sleep keeping you in. You weren't supposed to be in Azkaban.

The final, if the world was a charred cinder and there was no one else alive option, was your Aunt and Uncle. Your mother knew well that the opinions of her sister on the Magical World were likely only to worsen. The house at Privet Drive is yours, read the contract between Petunia and Lily and you'll learn much about the consequences you can chose to mete out, and also what the fact the you stayed in their care means about Dumbledore. You'll also find a copy of my full wills, and your parents. Also, you'll note that your parents' will wasn't fully executed. Please read the Goblins' report on what has been done and a full accounting of all Potter and Evans funds. Copies of all these parchments are kept in 2 muggle safe deposit boxes, with a third set in a place to be given to be published in event of your early death or if you are in a magical prison for more than two weeks.

I've pestered your friends for every detail about your life, by the way, only the Twins cottoned on to my interrogation – I think you can trust them. In these are also some important papers to sign. The diaries are your mother and father's, they have as many notes on potential spells and their research as events in their lives. You need to do some research yourself, Harry, no one knows everything Dumble's told you, and you need to check every implication and statement. How could blood wards based around your Aunt who treats you like crap reinforce protection on you based on love? And Dumble has yet to explain why you should go there since V resurrected himself with your blood. (The wards might be completely voided by this, nothing I've been able to find shows any protection that can be there for you.) He has never detailed what kinds of wards there are or how far they extend, but he has let the whole order know Snape is our spy. You need to study wards, and use the passive detectors in the next package to find out if you are safe there at all.

The books are mostly self-evident in their purpose, one is a interlibrary loan book some ancestor was smart enough to sneak home. Any magical library in the country is accessible through this baby. You need to find protection and secrecy spells for it. I'd access the book you want outside, as far from wards as possible. Once acquired there is no trace of the retrieval on the book, and you can save up to 1,000 pages of books in it at a time (in addition to whatever volume you are reading). But retrieval might appear, so don't risk it. Huckleberry Finn is both the American novel and a safe box, you'll need to key it to your thumbprint. The third book is my copy of How to become an Animagus. Right now it's charmed to look like porn if anyone tries to read over your shoulder, you might want to change this, or not.

The keys are to safe-houses and to a couple Gingotts vaults. The map shows where the houses are. The albums are mine from Hogwarts and after.

I love you. Don't trust the words you are given, check them in your book, in the old Daily Prophets in the library. Please, be careful. Plan for the worse, hope for the best. Make sure if you off Voldemort, Dumble can't cart you to Azkaban for killing him. You need to study the law, get a lawyer, to study how to protect yourself, and somehow get to go on vacation, see the world and have fun.

Don't give your trust fully or lightly, eat your veggies, and always wear clean, dry socks.

Sirius.

"Probably more serious talk than he ever got to tell me." Harry shook his head, the Quittich game on the pitch was breaking up, so it was past time he paid his visit to the infirmary. He repacked everything except the vest and the Interlibrary book, and tapped the box. "Mischief Managed." He smiled in relief as it transfigured back into the letter. Harry then pointed at "map" in the text "Correcto map avec path", he pointed at password "Correcto password avec single key". He opened the book and saw on the second page "Suggested Reading List" he selected **Blood Wards and Other Desperate Protections**. He shoved his letter in his pocket, took off his over robe, put on the vest then buttoned the robe closed. Book in hand, Harry went to his daily visit.


	3. Hiding in Plain Sight

Don't even have the right intials, so just doodling for fun.

_Hiding in Plain Sight_

* * *

He arrived just as Ron's breakfast dishes were being removed. Hermione was giving Harry a look that Gestapo interrogators would be envious of. "Hey guys. Did you catch any of the Quidditch game from the windows here?" "No. Just finished breakfast, mate. Takes forever to eat with my arms like they are."

Harry ducked his head, "Maybe if they got you bigger utensils... Think if they got you a bigger spoon you could still eat as much as you like to, and move your arm half as much."

Ron smiled. "Now that's a helpful idea. Hermy here just told me not to eat as much."

"Ron, it's not as if you're getting any physical activity here. I was just pointing out that you shouldn't have as much demand on your energy stores." Hermione tossed her hair back.

Harry held up his hands, "Maybe it's just my guilt speaking here, but I think if he's hungry he should eat. After all, your bodies are working hard to heal." Harry looked towards the windows, "Though maybe they could see about getting you some of those meal-shakes the Americans came up with for dieters. If you could sip your food through a straw, you wouldn't need to stress your arms." Harry looked back at his friends, "Unless you want me to feed you, Ron."

The tips of Ron's ears went red. "No problem. Those shakes sound good."

Hermione eyed Harry a bit suspiciously, for a moment. "I'll make sure to ask Madam Pomphrey next time she's through. I suppose my parents could get samples from the store if she hasn't heard of it."

Harry smiled. "Good to know Dudley's diets have some benefit." They all laughed.

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Um, I got a letter from Gringotts today. That's why I'm late."

Ron and Hermione shared a look before looking back to Harry. "So what's happening, mate?"

"Well, it was from Sirius." Harry pulled the now edited letter from his pocket and handed it to Hermione. "Seems he made me his heir, and I'm to waste all the money on pranks and brooms."

Ron's face contorted into a variety of expressions, finally settling on 'comforter'. Hermione made a moue of distaste, looking up from the letter, but put on a smile when she looked up at Harry, and passed the letter to Ron. "He wants you to be happy. Of course, you'll need to save some for a rainy day, not to mention the lawyer's fees." She reached for parchment and quill by her bed, and a look of agony shot across her features. Harry was alarmed, but knew better than to say anything. She began writing what looked to be quite a long list. "Since they canceled our classes to take care of all Umbridge's leavings, why don't you get these books for me, and we'll start figuring out what you'll need to handle this."

Harry smiled, and could practically hear Sirius laughing. "And I'm sure Ron here has plenty of Quidditch catalogs to start on my orders." He smiled at Ron, "Unless you think I should just order us all Firebolts."

Ron's eyes were a bit moist looking up from the letter, but he laughed. "Best way to let him get back at me Mum, I expect. But to do this Marauder style, I think you should get all the Owl Post Catalogs from Madam Pince when you get the books."

Harry smiled. "Well, as soon as my orders are complete," he nodded at Hermione, "I think we have pranks to plan for next year."

* * *


	4. Research Begins

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom 

_Part 4 : Research Begins_

* * *

Hermione's list had included the directory of attorneys that Sirius had suggested. He felt mildly guilty for playing his friends like he had, but all he said would be perfectly true, if Dumbledore wasn't in question. He was 15, all but one of his DADA teachers had intentionally tried to do him harm, if not kill him, and he had a feeling he was playing many galleons for the privilege. One of many things he should have asked or found out about before now. And how was there an Evans account at Gringotts? Wouldn't his mother's account be a Potter account?

He gathered the mail order catalogs, along with spare order slips next to them. He then went to the Quidditch books and grabbed **Professional Quidditch and the Firebolt: Speed vs. Skill** for Ron, and **Conditioning on the Ground** for himself. Then begged Madam Pince's help with Hermione's list. He knew that her stay in the hospital wing was the only reason Madam Pince would make an exception and allow the books out of the library this late in the term. The court ruling books were something he wouldn't have known how to find, and judging from the dust on them hadn't left the shelves since Hermione had worked on Buckbeak's case.

Any questions Harry asked, looking for information, would be passed on. Hermione asking would be expected, the overkill in information that she required to reach a decision something he knew he could use for his benefit. Also, since Madam Pince was on Hermione's Christmas list, a little over and above help would be given. Harry wished he had thought to be seen more as a bookworm, but shooting for average marks to avoid punishment for surpassing Dudley was engrained in him. Hopefully his push since McGonagall's career advice session was seen as the sole source of his improvement.

He thanked Madam Pince profusely for her help, and understanding how much he wanted to help his best friends. The carrier bag she lent him, had a nice built in feather-light charm, so he decided to take the long way back to the infirmary.

If Sirius was right, and he was not well warded at Privet Drive, the question became how to ward himself without letting Dumbledore know, and without using magic during the summer. He also needed ways to keep himself and his belongings safe. Which meant he also needed a way to sound-proof his room, unlock and lock locks, and get food and water. Apparently, Sirius thought Dumbledore was watching his mail much like Umbridge had, and frankly it was logical. Otherwise shouldn't he have received owls his whole life? Little girls like Ginny raised reading romanticized stories with him as the Hero, would surely have written. And why had he never received a single letter from any of his parents' friends? Or Christmas Gift? Was there a room in Hogwarts filled with hate and fan mail for him? He laughed.

As Harry entered the infirmary, he saw Ginny and Neville had come in to visit. The curtains were drawn from the windows, and it looked as if they had opened all the lower portions of the windows. It smelled of late spring, and not potions for the first time in days. He smiled as he pulled a chair over to the foot of Hermione's bed. Neville and Ron were playing chess with Ginny and the pieces competing to help out Neville.

"Hey guys." Harry handed Hermione the legal directory, placed the Ron's book on his nightstand, and then put the catalogs on Ron's bed. Hermione smiled above the bickering of the pieces and started reading the directory immediately.

Ginny turned to him. "So Sirius has ordered you to waste all the money he had."

Harry tried to smile. "Yes. Probably the best revenge he could get, having it spent on fun rather than snakes and dark artifacts. Though I don't know how much there is, but I thought we could make Christmas lists of sorts."

Ginny smiled. "Catalogs are no fun if you try to shop realistically. When I was little, Dad would bring home all these Muggle catalogs, that have pictures of most everything, and I'd cut out everything and make mansion collages. It was more fun to pretend my dolls lived there, and I could change it any old time." She picked up Gladrags catalog, and opened it. "Wizarding catalogs aren't half as much fun. Pulling out her wand and she began tapping on the menus. Choosing gender, height, season, and color before any pictures began to appear on the side page. "To even get a picture you have to get pretty specific and then the picture only stays for 5 minutes max. And you can't copy it, or tear it out, only add it to your wish list."

Ginny looked at Harry, "Not to mention all the spells that make these work make them somewhat expensive, not free like most of the muggle ones. I got in such trouble when I cut up our Madame Malkins catalog. I don't even know why we had it since we always shopped there in person, but I knew it cost a galleon to replace."

Harry said, "If Hermione here wasn't Madam Pince's favorite I don't think she would have let me remove them from the library."

Hermione looked up and smiled, "Dad's favorite advice from university, be nice to secretaries and librarians, because they are the ones who run the school. It's true. Though here the secretary part doesn't really apply."

Ginny snorted, "Maybe it's prefects here." She nudged Harry. "After all we common folk need to be able to get to the kitchens."

Harry chuckled. "I don't think so. Except for Percy most prefects seem to only notice if someone was bleeding, or a teacher was about to catch them. Then again with my cloak…"

Hermione shook her head, "Not even Percy stopped our adventures when he was a Prefect. Only Neville tried to stop us from leaving."

"Yeah, but then again we usually left when there was no one in the common room," Harry pointed out. "Secretaries are important because they are there even when their boss is out. Hmm, maybe it's the portraits."

Hermione beamed at Harry's insight, "Exactly. I wonder if we could have made things go more easily if we asked the Fat Lady her name? Though in her day, being plump was a sign of wealth and beauty, so it's not exactly that we are insulting her..."

"Well, we don't call her that to her face, do we? Most she hears is usually hello, hurry up, or whatever the password is with the occasional is so-and-so here? Makes you wonder how much portraits are actually there, you know, to keep from getting snippy like Mrs. Black's."

Ginny looked surprised, and Hermione pensive. "Something to look up. But I'd imagine portraits here might be more magical. Not only is there more ambient magic, but more to do, with the range of paintings…"

Ginny said, "And they haven't been trapped in the dark for a decade. Though Sir Cadogen was still a bit off."

Harry leant forward in his chair, resting his chin on his fist. "Wonder if the Fat Lady and the other guarding portraits rotate off?"

"Not while my brothers were here at least. They all seemed shocked when Ron & I mentioned having a different portrait."

Hermione interrupted. "Time to get to work. Harry, you take the court index from 1975 to 1985, and Ginny if you would take 1985 to 1995? They are indexed by year, then case type, then by defendant or claimant. Since you'll not want an attorney he's ever used, we can compile a list, though we probably should cross-check to see if other Death Eaters used any of the winning attorneys." Harry grabbed his book as she continued, "We'll need to cross check with the trial transcripts, so write down all you can. There should be a reference volume given, but last time I found they weren't that accurate, so you need the court, judge, and date, too."

Harry glanced over and noticed Ron's trying to shush his players as he moved into checkmate. "And don't think I forgot you, Ron or Neville. There's supplements to go through too."

Harry quickly jumped in, "Neville, if you'd like to help, or if you just know a couple good attorney names, that'd be great. I don't know if this lot explained.."

Neville interrupted, "They gave me enough, I think. And if you'd like to talk later, or some help tomorrow I'd be willing. But I'm already running late to meet Professor Sprout. She's promised to let me take some cuttings home in exchange for help setting up for the summer." He shrugged, "Thought I would have lost by now."

"You're definitely better than Harry here, mate. Haven't had such a good game in ages."

Neville finished putting away the set, "Gran makes me play her a lot. And even when I was learning to call the knight, a knight, instead of the horsey, she rarely let me win." He smiled, "You should play her, Ron. It would be great for everyone else."

They all laughed.

* * *


	5. Dinner and Further Revelation

_It's a bit ironic, I love long chapters but I keep producing short ones. _

_Still not my characters, just my thoughts. _

* * *

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

Part the Fifth

* * *

He stayed until dinner. They'd found 30 different lawyers to follow up on, though they hadn't cross-checked them against the other deatheaters yet. There were also ten cases in 1981-3 with the names Potter, Evans, and Dumbledore attached to them. Ginny had noted that his underage magic trials weren't in her book. Harry wasn't sure what the significance of that could be. Were all underage trials not in these more public listings? Or had Fudge done something just to suppress his?

He had grabbed a couple catalogs before he left, which immediately had Ron switching to the Quality Quidditch Supply catalog, and Hermione complaining. Harry sat next to his dorm mates as Dean once again was preaching the value of football. Harry tried to suggest rugby was a more substantial sport, with hands and serious bodily injury both in play, but Dean wouldn't be derailed. The full staff was at the head table tonight, only the second time since Dumbledore's little talk with him. Seeing McGonagall starting dessert, Harry suddenly remembered one of his many questions from before, "Hey guys."

Dean, Neville, and Seamus turned to him. "Do any of you know what classes we were supposed to have this week?"

Neville answered, "We were supposed to have introductory classes to the electives that are offered for sixth and seventh years."

Dean added, "We were also supposed to have a government class every morning, to start prep for various licenses and intoductions for summer programs."

"Summer programs?"

Seamus answered, "Yeah, exchanges with magical families in France and the States. Study programs and internships and all that rot. Didn't Hermione fill you in on the meeting?"

"What meeting?" Harry made an effort not to raise his voice.

The others shared a look, then Dean answered, "Back while you were still taking remedial potions. There wasn't a posting in the common room, but McGonagall got all us fifth years together and told us about all the summer programs that were offered for sixth years. She said Hermione would tell you, when Neville asked."

Neville added, "She took Hermione aside after word and gave her a packet. You were sleeping so rough then, and with the detentions and all, I never thought to check."

Harry sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Were there any other meetings that I missed?"

Seamus replied, "Not really. McGonagall came back a week after that to pick up applications and advise people who needed recommendations."

Harry tried to smile, "So did you guys sign up for anything?"

"Internship at the Blunbott Greenhouses for me." Harry nodded.

Seamus said, "Me mum wants me home now, but I was accepted at the Ministry in the Muggle offices. But she reckons it might not be the best, But I've still 'nother week and a half to decide. The underage magic waiver makes me want to."

"I'm working for a football camp outside of London. It'll be all muggle kids, but the pay is good. So no waiver for me." Dean finished.

"But if I were you I'd sneak some headache and healing potions from Madam Pompfrey. Hate to see a seven year old girl's well-shot kick give you a Snape nose." This elicited the laughter he hoped for, and brought the conversation back to sports. He peeked up at the head table, and was unsurprised to see the staff suddenly look elsewhere.

* * *


	6. Catalog Shopping for the Deprived

A tribute, and pondering on these books...

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

Part 6

* * *

A little while later, Harry noticed McGonagall leaving the main table, excused himself to try to catch her. Her limp wasn't as pronounced now as it had been when she first got back, but she was still walking much slower than she usually did. "Professor? I was wondering if you would have time to talk tomorrow?"

She stopped, looked him over, "It must be important to forgo your treacle tart. My office at 8, Mr. Potter?"

"Thank you, Professor. That will be fine." Harry forced a smile. She nodded curtly and continued out of the hall.

Harry headed to his room, noticing for the first time how the statues eyes seemed to faintly glow as he approached them. He only had a week to prepare for the summer. With Dumble's speech about Privet Drive, he was fairly certain this summer was going to be like the last, even with the lack of information apparently. He would need to see what these programs Hermione was supposedly tasked with telling him about were. But why hadn't he heard about them from somebody else? Usually the gossip machine around Hogwarts was thick with discussions about anything new for their year. And if there were outside internships with wizarding companies – why hadn't he gotten any offers from someone wanting his fame? Granted, Fudge had been dragging his name through the dirt in the press…

And why were classes canceled for their year? If these were standard for every grade, shouldn't they have received at least packets telling them what would have been covered? As Harry entered his room, his mind was a blur with the million questions the day had raised. Luckily Seamus and Dean were going to be on the pitch for a while, they had set up a pick-up game of football. Neville had said he was going to work out in the greenhouses until dark. Harry inspected the room, sure enough in every corner of the ceiling there were gargoyle-like figures. Harry wasn't sure if the stonework counted as a statue, but he shivered at the thought. There were no portraits hanging on the walls, and the carvings on his headboard were of leaves. Harry stood on his bed, drawing the curtains, "Lumos". Using his wand he checked the canopy, and was relieved to find no carvings. "Nox". He plopped down, rolled off the bed, and went to his trunk. He pulled out a spiral notebook and ballpoint pen he had filched from Dudley last summer, and the last issues he had of the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet. Shoving aside the curtains, he placed these on his bed before grabbing a self-inking quill and parchment from his desk.

Supplies complete, Harry lit the study lantern at the head of the bed, silenceoed his curtains, and then placed a proximity alert on his bed. Pulling out the Quibbler he found ads for Flourish and Blotts, Dervish and Banges, and a used bookshop Merlin's Library. Noting the fees for each catalog, Harry decided to buy a book from the first (as a catalog would be sent free with any order) and order self-updating catalogs from the other two, as you had to spend 30 galleons before they included a catalog. While the interlibrary book had a card index built in, the stores would feature more popular, and probably easier to understand books, and escaping the wards to retrieve a better book might not be feasible during some parts of the summer. Pulling the letter and the catalogs out of his pocket, and restored them to full size.

The one that had caught his eye was the camping and household goods store McGoens. A tent or trunk were likely to either give the Durselys too many ideas, or get locked up in his 'old room'. There were some interesting items he could cobble together, the problem would be making the items shrink or expand with a password. Maybe there would be a way to make a tent invisible, or repel muggles. The main problems he had at Privet Drive were: lack of food, confiscation or destruction of his belongings, lack of privacy, lack of time to study, lack of information, and not knowing when he'd get to leave. Setting aside the catalog, he picked up the notebook, and began to write a list.

1) Protection/Concealment Spells for Hedwig  
2) Lock-pick or window vanisher   
3) Way to keep sound in room   
4) Muggle repelling charms?  
5) Way to get food & water   
6) Potions for injuries, dreamless sleep   
7) ?Way to receive owl post at a drop box or something?  
8) Shrinking/Resizing Charms.  
9) Retrival/Protection Charms for trunk.  
10) ?Paper?

He picked the catalog back up. In the camping section, there was a wizarding ice box in the shape of a muggle cooler. Tapping it a description came up, as well as sizes and cost. The smallest could carry a days worth of food, the largest six months the outer size was the same, unless you chose a warmer to be built into what would be the white handle. The top end model was a whopping 100 galleons, but was guaranteed for 20 years, and came with dinner for five from L'Enchantment in Diagon Alley. Harry tapped his wand to add the black model to his wish list. If he was able to get his order before he left, he might be able to scrounge enough from the kitchens without drawing too much of a fuss.

There were additional goodies. Camp stoves that worked the muggle way but had charms to prevent burning the food, and a color indicator to show when the food was fully cooked. There was a sleeping mat that was charmed with extra cushioning charms to mimic a feather bed. Harry tapped that to his wish list, as the springs on his bed were nearly poking through. He also tapped the Always Temperate Bedroll, the description for which told of its cooling and heating charms, guaranteed to keep you cool in the desert sun or warm on a bed of snow. It had a built in head cushion, and the larger model was able to fully unzip and mimic a feather duvet. He chose a charcoal gray one, and just in case a green one.

Harry looked at the tents, but all were made to give the appearance of a muggle tent on the outside. Some of the expensive models' special features were very attractive to Harry, silencing charms, muggle repelling, insect and vermin repelling, as well as some that had charms to make some rooms of the tent one-way windows of sorts, and to keep magic in, and hide detection of magic done inside the tent. Giving in to temptation, he added the top of the line tent to his wish list, selected all the charms possible, and in the notation line, requested if it could look like a rickety chair to muggles, and if additional charms could be added to keep anyone from moving it without a password.Harry shrugged, it wouldn't hurt to ask, and at the amount of money his wish list was already totaling to…

He then chose 2 deluxe first aid kits, supposed to be outfitted with all basic healing potions and a flare of sorts that dispatched a call for help to the nearest wizarding hospital. These he noted, were charmed to shrink or resize with a password, exactly as he hoped was possible for the cooler. There were fire starting kits, that guaranteed a full nights fire from the three provided logs. He chuckled a bit at the bedpan, then found himself considering it, as more than once even without much food or water he'd found himself tempted to go out the window if his door stayed locked another ten minutes. Whispering Sirius's words, "Plan for the worst, hope for the best," he ordered one Amazing Self-Vanishing Portable Loo. Skipping past the recreation items, Harry was somewhat surprised to find packaged meals for travel. He ordered one of each, a crate of Butterbeer, 2 self filling thermoses one hot water, the other cold, a selection of herbal teas, sugar, and a Always Fruitful refilling fruit bowl. There was a note that the monthly subscription fee was based on quantity, and started at 5 galleons a month in addition to the cost of the bowl.

Continuing to flip through the catalog, Harry found the lawn and garden supplies section. Wizarding lawn ornaments looked much the same as muggle ones, he tapped on a glass lily and was surprised to find that it had a charm to attract beneficial insects as an option. He went back to the fencing section, and tapped on the edging fence – sure enough there were notice me not and muggle repelling charms. Harry's face split in a wide smile. If he ordered enough fencing to surround the tent, apparently it came as a long rope, you enclosed the area, tied the ends together and the fence popped up. He chose the option that made the ground inside look like the ground touching the outside edge of the fence, and to make the fence transparent to muggles. While the prize winning flowers of the season with white pickets was a nice option, it wouldn't help him hide.

Suddenly remembering the Wizarding Wireless, Harry flipped back to the entertainment section. He quickly selected a boombox size Wireless that had the capability to play muggle CDs and had what looked like headphones with it that apparently could pick up the Wireless for up to a mile from the box. There was a yearly subscription fee for the Wireless, and he could elect to have additional subscriptions to the French and Scandinavian Channels with optional translation. He decided to take the French with translation, hoping they might have more accurate news coverage.

Harry decided that was enough shopping for now, so pulled out an order form, and attached it to the spokes on the back of the catalog and tapped his wand to the top of the order form. Checking to make sure the whole order was put on the form, Harry then pulled out his quill and requested that his order be shipped in a box that could shrink or resize with a password as he was underage. He then filled out the billing info and the Gringotts withdrawal authorization, and detached the order form. He pulled off his copy, then folded the order to mail later.

Knowing he would need cover, Harry wrote a short note to Lupin, something he should do anyway.

_Remus,_

_Hi. Hope you are healthy, and coping better than I am. I got a letter from Gringotts today from Sirius. It really helped a lot. I wonder when he wrote it. He asked me to get a lawyer before I go to Gringotts to sign papers. I think it is to keep his cousins from trying to claim his things, so I have gotten Hermione to help me search for a good attorney. I hate doing this, but I don't want them to benefit._

_I'm trying to keep busy. My classmates aren't complaining, but since they canceled the NEWT prep classes I've been scrambling for something to do. What were those classes supposed to be anyway?_

_I've been taking walks in the morning, enjoying being outside without having to fear being locked out while I still can. I'm spending most of my day hauling books and doing other entertainment duties for Ron and Hermione. Madam Pomphrey gave Ron my bed. It's so strange to be the visitor, I feel so guilty at times – I wish I could help them heal faster._

_Please take care of yourself,  
Harry_

Harry flexed his legs, did a quick tempus and discovered it was already 8:20. He folded up Remus's letter tucked Sirius's back into his pocket along with his order copy, and grabbed the order and the letter to take to the Owlery.

* * *


	7. The Second Morning

_Not mine. _

_

* * *

_

_Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom_

_Part 7: The Second Morning_

_

* * *

_

At six Harry woke to the flashing lights and trilling of his alarm. He reached up to slam the floating sphere, but missed and it floated to the top of the canopy. Harry grabbed his wand and shot lumos at it to deactivate it. He stumbled out of his bed, tripping on his shoes as he made his way to the bathroom. Neville was finishing dressing near the shower stall when Harry reached the sink. He was putting the paste on his toothbrush, when one of his million questions from last night bubbled out, "Neville, how much is tuition here?" In the mirror Harry saw Neville drop his tie and his jaw.

Harry turned around to face his friend, again relieved there were no portraits or sculptures in the bathroom. "What did I say wrong?"

Neville recovered quickly. "Nobody has told you half the things you are supposed to know, have they?"

Harry laughed darkly, "Some days I doubt that much."

Neville sat on the changing bench, "Tuition at Hogwarts is one of the hundred or so questions you aren't supposed to ever ask."

"Why?"

"Every family pays a different amount. If your family has more, you pay more, but also if your family has an old name you pay more than a muggleborn would."

"But I don't see how any old families would want their kids to go here at these rates." Harry shook his head, "I mean muggle university in America would be cheaper."

Neville got a confused look on his face, "American muggles pay less than three thousand galleons a year for university?"

Harry sat back on the lip of the sink. "You only pay three thousand?"

"Malfoy once claimed to pay five, but Gran said the top tuition is three."

"Why would I be paying ten thousand then?"

Neville shook his head slowly. "You can't. Anything above top tuition is a donation. And no one would donate that much. Who's in charge of your trust? Because it sounds like they are skimming."

"So there is no reason for that high of a cost?"

Realization of who was in charge of Harry's accounts dawned on Neville's face, "No. At that rate, Dumbledore or no, it looks like you are buying your grades."

"Or paying to replace DADA teachers who try to kill me. Thanks Neville. Could you not mention this to anybody? Ron would freak."

Neville nodded, "I think tonight I should answer some more questions for you."

Harry smiled, "That would be great! But we'd have to go by the lake or in another bathroom. All the portraits tell Dumbledore what's going on."

Neville's face darkened, "But then there was never any question... Right after dinner."

Harry nodded, and Neville picked up his tie and left Harry to his ablutions.

Harry grabbed the interlibrary loan book and the list of legal books he was to retrieve, leaving everything else in his trunk which he placed a locking and touching hex on. It was still only half six, but he didn't have much time left. He had been reading and studying, but after going through the parchments it was clear he didn't know the right things and would likely create a bigger mess without help. There were no adults he could trust to be loyal to him first. Neville might make a better source of information, he was a pureblood and his Gran apparently raised him the old-fashioned way. Plus Dumbledore wasn't on a first name basis with Neville that Harry could see.

While Ron and Hermione's intentions might be good, at this point he knew they were too close to Dumbledore to see the Headmaster's faults. Harry not only owned Privet Drive, he paid the taxes and a yearly stipend paid to them every October. Even though Harry was in school, the stipend had not decreased, though it was supposed to have been stopped the first time he entered his trust vault. At the same time Dumbledore received a thousand galleons every year since he was placed at Privet drive to monitor his Aunt. This amount doubled since he came to school, but according to the will was supposed to be to pay for his summers at Hogwarts and extra classes in Defense, Latin, and self-defense.

And it was quite obvious, that though the maximum amount of money was being taken, and then some – with the rigging of his tuition, that his parents' will was being violated in word and spirit. But Harry knew he couldn't let anyone know, until he had a lawyer and was out of Dumbledore's grasp. Confronting the Headmaster would only led to his obliviation, and Sirius had commented in a log at the bottom of the parchments that Sirius had been obliviated at least 3 times, and each time the copy of the will had disappeared. But Harry had an additional wrinkle, he had the power to declare himself a legal adult, and get the power to recover and assert his rights, but unless he was the minor ward of Sirius Black he couldn't petition for a new trial to clear his name.

He would need to read over the parchments again tonight. He mentally added a legal dictionary to his library list. As Harry reached the Great Hall, Neville was leaving with a muffin and glass of milk. They nodded at each other as they passed. Looking over the Hall, it appeared that Harry was the oldest student in the room, which seemed to confirm the rumors of parties in Hufflepuff, especially as even the first years from that house weren't present. Harry pulled out his book, and read as he ate.

Grabbing another piece of toast to soak up the last bits of egg yolk, Harry finished his breakfast. The Blood Wards book was a hard one, but even what he did read made it seem like there was no way that Privet Drive could be safe. With finals for the lower classes still yet to come, the library was open from dawn to midnight. Despite his longing for sunshine and fresh air, Harry skipped his walk by the lake and headed directly to the library.

* * *

_AN: I'm figuring 1 galleon : 5 dollars American.  
_


	8. Postponed

_Not mine. _

_Thanks for the comments. I know my posts are short, but this is how I prevent getting locked up on a certain point._

* * *

_**Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom**_

_Part 8: Postponed_

* * *

In the library the ghosts of Hogwarts were on duty. The Bloody Baron who Harry had rarely seen except at sorting seemed to be helping a group of Slytherin first years. The Friar was hovering near the checkout counter, other ghosts were drifting from table to table, and Sir Nicholas was standing near the Restricted Section. If Hermione had mentioned the lack of Madam Pince before he doubted he would have needed to be dragged out of bed, except when he was in the hospital wing. As the library was mostly full of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, both houses Madam Pince was known to keep an extra eye on, Harry thought the ghosts must be an attraction.

"Good morning, Sir Nicholas."

"Good morrow to you, Mister Potter. What brings you to the library?"

"I was wondering if you could help me find books I need?"

"Splendid!" Sir Nicholas began heading into the Restricted Section before Harry could pull his book list out of his pocket. Pausing for a moment, Harry followed.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. I'm sure Professor Binns," Sir Nicholas winked, "was quite happy to give you the permission you need to access the books you require, especially as they weren't added to this section until the summer before you enrolled in Hogwarts." Sir Nicholas quickly moved in front of a far bottom shelf that appeared empty until the knight put reached in and put his hand on the first book. "Now Harry the sword you used your second year to great effect whose heir could use it?"

"Gryffindor's Heir?"

"Say that again as you point your wand at the shelf."

Harry complied and repeated assertively, "Gryffindor's Heir!"

The obscuring charms on all the shelves suddenly fell and there were three times as many books as were visible before. But the shelf of interest was clearly what Sir Nicholas wanted him to take. Sir Nicholas smiled, and gestured to a middle book _Heirs of Hogwarts_.

"Now young Mr. Potter, I believe you want page 137."

Harry gingerly removed the book from the shelf, still wary of the alarm spells. Hopping down to sit on the floor he opened the book to the page in question and read the page. "The headmaster controls all the ghosts?"

"That I cannot yet confirm or deny."

Harry smiled at the ghost, and read the lines at the bottom of the page. "Hear me, oh Spirits of Hogwarts. Hear me, a humble heir come to learn. Aide me Hogwarts. Guide me true. I am a heir of pure heart seeking aide left me."

"One more line I might suggest, 'Hide my secrets oh Hogwarts, and tell me the dangers I face.'"

Harry quickly repeated that line, adding, "Thank you Hogwarts."

"Close the book."

Harry did, and a gust of wind seemed to shoot from the book, and as it hit Sir Nicholas briefly turned him golden. The ghost grinned widely and stretched. "Thank you, young Heir. It's so nice to be freed from those binds."

Harry smiled, and looked over the titles remaining on the shelf, half the shelf seemed to be the entire set of _Families of Wizarding Britain : Self Updating guide to your Heritage_. "Guess just hiding the P and E books would be too telling." Sir Nicholas nodded in response and Harry pulled down the P volume. Opening the book to the middle, Harry found the page blank. Flipping forward and then backward, Harry found only more blank pages. "Okay, what am I missing here?"

Sir Nicholas chuckled, "You need only start at the beginning."

Harry closed the book then opened the front cover. Attached to a ribbon to the spine and laying in a pocket was a stylus. Harry moved the stylus out above the book, and turned to the first page.

First Name: Last Name:  
Date of Birth:

Father's First:  
Father's Last:  
Date of Birth:

Mother's First:  
Mother's Maiden:  
Date of Birth:

Place one drop of blood into the circle below.

Harry took the stylus and filled out what he could, then used after using three cleaning charms on the sharp point on the opposite end of the stylus poked the his finger. He let the drop fall to the page, and was disappointed when nothing happened immediately. Harry looked up at Sir Nicholas.

The ghost shrugged, "It's an old book, give it a moment."

Harry turned his eyes back to the page. Still nothing. Harry cast tempus. 7:20 He looked at the page, still nothing. Harry set the book on the floor in front of him, and looked at the remaining books on the shelf. There were autobiographies for each of the four founders, a book on wandless magic by Gryffindor, a book on potions by Slytherin, a book on prophecy by Ravenclaw, and what looked to be several diaries. The page still had not changed, Harry peeked at the next page in the book, but it was still blank.  
"Are these books the ones you think I need most?"

"Harry, these are part of your inheritance. These books excepting the _Families of Wizarding Britain_ came from a house in Godric's Hollow."

Harry pulled _Wandless Magic_, and sure enough inside the front cover was a bookplate declaring the book property of the Potter Family. "How many books here are supposed to be mine?"

"There is an easy way to answer that question, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid you must wait to find out."

"Why?"

"Magical Bookplates are not just the pretty pictures that their muggles counterparts are. They can contain many charms, but most important is the Homing charm. Have you never wondered how there can be only one librarian for a library of this size?"

Harry shrugged, one of the few times he had been to a library before Hogwarts was on a schooltrip. While he could vaguely recall that the small Little Whinging library had at least 5 librarians that day, and a bunch of people behind the desk, he never was in the library longer than to drop off a book of Dudley's after that. "House elves?"

"Only to clean. The back cover of each Hogwarts book has a plate." Harry flipped the book open to the back cover, and found a Hogwarts plate. "This plate need only be tapped by the librarian or owner of the library, and this book will return to the shelf it was set on by that person. A limited portkey of sorts."

Harry nodded.

"And that Mr. Potter is why you must wait." Sir Nicholas stabbed at the Hogwarts plate. "A week after classes end, Madam Pince will use a more advanced Homing charm and recall all Hogwarts books to the library. Luckily Professor Binns has granted you the override charm for these books."

"Can this one be removed?"

"Removing the Hogwarts plate will change the library inventory. The charm will work for these books, and as Professor Binns is working on a book on the Chamber of Secrets…"

Harry smiled.

Harry left the library with a full pocket of shrunk books, and a more general book on blood wards. The _Families_ book still hadn't written itself by the time he left the library. Although the set, unlike the rest of the books on the hidden shelf wasn't a Potter book, Sir Nicolas had him perform the charms on the P volume as well to take with him to a meeting with the Bloody Baron that night. Harry had no idea why Nick had come to him today, rather than second year, but he thought he'd find out tonight. In the mean time he had to jump some hurdles with his head of house. Nick had also helped him find the books on Hermione's list and one on estate maintenance that the ghost assured Harry had all the information he needed on book plates. Harry ran to make it to his 8:00 meeting.

When Harry arrived at McGonagall's office, the door was open and a cup of steaming tea was on her desk but the professor was not there. Harry went in moved the chair facing her desk, so it was at an angle that would allow him to see the door behind him in the mirror on the side way and sat down. He began reading the blood wards book Sir Nicholas had found for him, starting on the cancellation chapter. When he finished it, he began at the beginning of the book. Harry kept reading until an owl dropped a letter on his lap. Another tempus revealed it was 8:51. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

The owl whooted from his perch on the desk. Harry took the prompt and opened the letter.

****

**_Mr. Potter,_**

**_Your order poses interesting challenges. The lack of active spells you request, as noted in our catalog, will still require taps of your wand in order to comply with Muggle Protection statutes. The additional charms will require an additional fee of 50 galleons. We will endeavor to complete your custom order as soon as possible upon receiving the authorization._**

**_Campbell McGoen McGoen's: Keeping the Charm in Daily Life_**

****

Harry borrowed a quill from the Professor's desk, scrawled his authorization for the additional charge, and attached the letter to the owl's leg. "If you need a treat or water you'll need to visit the Owlery, as I have nothing with me." The owl bobbed its head and took off,leaving Harry to stew in his thoughts.

Why would McGonagall stand him up without a note? There were no papers on her desk, nor the floor. Harry began to question not bringing his bookbag with him, or at least his notebook and pen, he kept needing to write. Harry decided to leave. When Harry stood and turned, he noticed for the first time, that a portrait hung on the wall in the shadow from the open door. Phineas Nigellus smirked at him. Harry felt like he was punched in the gut, but endeavored to keep his face blank. "Headmaster, do you know when Professor McGonagall might return?"

"Finally sick of waiting, boy?"

"It is unlike the Professor to be tardy or absent." Harry wondered if not being able to trust anyone was supposed to help him occlude his thoughts. Or if Dumbledore was trying to drive him to suicide by removing all potential sources of help.

"Professor Dumbledore required her presence."

"Please inform Professor McGonagall that I waited for an hour, and would like her to owl me if she can meet this afternoon."

Phineas nodded, "Finally found your manners. I will pass on your message."

Harry suppressed a sigh, and headed to the hospital wing.

* * *


	9. Hospital Wing: Day Two

_On the shoulders of a really interesting idea._

_Thanks for all the feedback, and for telling me I was limited to signed reviews, fixed that._

_Now this is the complete chapter, apparently the upload shutdown isn't right now... _

_

* * *

_Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

Part 9

* * *

Harry took a deep breath before opening the doors to the hospital wing. He wanted to go to sleep until he could wake up and pretend this was a dream caused by too many chocolate frogs. He had to keep pretending nothing was bothering him except Sirius' death, but even that he couldn't really show. At least living at the Dursley's had taught him how to hide his emotions, but he rather missed the freedom he took at Hogwarts before. As he shoved the doors open with just the right hint of a smile, he knew he should have been in Slytherin.

Ron was corralling the last of the scrambled eggs on his plate, while sipping at a straw stuck in a half-full glass of chocolate shake. Hermione's table tray was already set neatly to the side, the silverware crossed as her custom on the plate, and 3 books were open on her bed. Harry nearly sighed with relief that Neville wasn't present, as he knew the summer program issue had to be broached, carefully. "Good morning." Harry pulled the legal books out of his pocket, and after nearly dropping his wand as he pulled it from his sleeve, restored the books.

Hermione gave Harry a curious look, which Harry ignored, choosing to enjoy the sight of Ron laughing so hard it looked as if there was danger of shake coming out his nose. Harry laughed, and after a bit Hermione giggled too. "Ron, remind me to look for a wand holster."

The red head bobbed his head in response, gasping for breath, his face the same color as his locks. Hermione shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Harry let his smile fade. "So what's up with the summer programs?"

Hermione gasped softly, "Who told you?"

Ron just looked confused, "What are you on, mate?"

"Dean and Seamus were discussing their summer plans. Dean's going to coach soccer. And I was wondering what the fifth years were originally planned to do these last couple weeks. And not only do I get told that the internships and exchange programs were presented to Gryffindor while I was at Occulmency, but that everyone was told Hermione was going to tell me about the programs." Harry worked hard at keeping his face calm, and put his clenched hands in his pockets.

"Harry, you couldn't participate. It wouldn't have been safe."

"Hermione, no one has the right to make decisions for me. I can't believe you would help them keep me in the dark."

"Professor Dumbledore told me it would be cruel to dangle it in front of you then tell you that you couldn't go." Hermione leaned forward, her face pleading for forgiveness, but Harry saw that set of her shoulders that she got when she felt morally superior and smarter than him.

Harry raised a hand, "Professor is a term used for a teacher. One who is supposed to impart knowledge and help protect students. He is not, and has never been my guardian. I am a student, it is his job to teach us and keep us safe in this school. This is the first year that my brushes with death didn't happen on school grounds. You are supposed to be my friend. How do you think I would feel when I found out? Did you think the starvation from the Durselys and Dudley trying to brain me would keep me too weak to get mad when everyone talked about their summers?"

Harry was proud that he kept his rant at a low volume, and wasn't moved at the tears leaking from Hermione's eyes. If she had any defense, she'd be ranting at him. Ron looked torn, and keep glancing back at forth at the two of them. "Hermione, you guys are supposed to be my best friends, my siblings that I never got to have. You're not my mother. And maybe it's my fault for needing a push to do my homework too often, but I need you as a friend, and I can't if you help Dumbledore hide things from me."

"Oh, Harry." She started crying harder, and at Ron's mouthed suggestion Harry gave her a bit of a hug and found himself an instant later nearly squeezed to death, with a wet shoulder.

Harry awkwardly patted her back. "Um, so Ron, anything good in that Quidditch book I grabbed for you?"

Ron laughed. "Yeah, mate. Seems you should have been practicing on a slower broom instead of your Firebolt to get the most out of it."

Ron had waxed on about the merits of practicing on slower brooms, finally getting to the point that he suggested buying Comet 180s for practice, as the school brooms weren't even that new. He was getting into a maneuver specific analysis of the braking charms when Hermione finally pulled away from Harry with a weak laugh, "If only he could break down potions like that."

Ron laughed, "If only there was a potions book with charts, and ingredient analysis."

"But there is!"

"Give me the title, and add it to my wish list." Ron shook his head, "I can't believe you never told us."

Hermione retorted firmly, "Ronald, you've used the book on many a report. It's not my fault that you never looked beyond the page I had the book open to."

Harry didn't want to go there again today. "I bet it's on all the Slytherin's required book lists. Put a copy for each of us on the wish list, Hermione."

She smiled. "Then we best get to these legal books so you can get a lawyer, and be able to buy some books."

"Need to make sure you can get that Comet before you come to my place, so hand over the books."

Harry looked down at the books, to hide his expression from Hermione. "Maybe this is one of the things I should be doing on my own, without asking you for help."

Ron snorted, but Hermione was the one to speak. "I know why you are asking us for help, Harry. It's not like homework at all. This is to remember Sirius, and to use as an excuse to buy us stuff."

Harry looked up, and with his best innocent smile said, "It's not an excuse. It's for Sirius. I think he means for us to squeeze out all the joy we can." He looked down at the floor, "Because who knows how many tomorrows we will have until Voldemort attacks again." With that Harry handed out the books.

Harry stayed until it was time for dinner. They had made great progress, winnowing the list to 5 likely candidates, after noting which lawyers seemed to get their cases done with promptly, and which had cases linger on for years. While he was in the hospital wing, he wrote a letter, which he then copied and addressed to each lawyer, requesting information about the state of their practices, and whether the attorney would be able to take on a new client. Harry had marked the book that had the trials involving the Evans and Potter families from 1981 and 1982. Apparently, he had some distant Potter cousins by the name of Garco in France who challenged his inheritance rights as a half-blood. Hermione had looked like she was about to start questioning him, as he read about the case, so he had to add it to his night-time reading.

* * *

_AN: Harry is still 15. He has incomplete knowledge of the law, and is under Dumbledore's authority. He can't give much away, though he has given Hermione more than he should have in this chapter._


	10. Squib Protection Statutes

_Harry's still not mine, but I hope some of these ideas in this chapter are unique._

_BTW, if you read C 9 on Saturday, go back a chapter before you read this, I put the second half up on the page Sunday, but since it was an edit of a chapter rather than a new one, I don't think an alert was sent._

* * *

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom 

Part 10

Harry was half-way to the library, when he decided keeping all the books overnight was less suspicious than not returning the ones with the Potter, Evans, and Dumbledore cases. He hoped Dumbledore wasn't watching as he went off on Hermione, but chances are he arranged McGonagall's lack of appearance just to set him off. McGonagall hadn't contacted him. He found himself reweighing what he would tell her. Originally he was going to report complaints about Umbridge, as that is why they claimed they needed to cancel the classes, and then request the materials for the canceled classes whilst casually mentioning the abuse of his Aunt & Uncle. In the parchments, he had discovered that the first step to putting Dumbledore in breach of contract would be allegations of abuse. Of course there was abuse, and fraud in accounting, but unless D knew or had sufficient evidence that he should have known he wasn't fully in breach of the letter of the contract in this regard.

Sirius had clipped a note to the section of Lily's will, (his father's was separate and simple, everything to Lily, and if she was deceased, then her will was to be followed in full) apparently, much like the muggle school he had attended before, it was a requirement for every student to have a yearly physical. Harry had not one. And as such, Dumbledore could claim he was ignorant of the starvation, the bones that had been broken, the failure to thrive that he had seen on his muggle medical records. Dumbledore not be held to the full penalties. Of course, if school hadn't required yearly checks, and if the muggle government wasn't paying for them, he doubted they would have taken him. After all, they didn't pay the fee for new frames for his glasses Dudley broke. But the records themselves could prove the neglect of the Headmaster's duties.

Harry headed to the Owlery, as being early for dinner would only make it possible for McGonagall to brush him off. He called for some of the school owls and gave each owl one letter, he then called Hedwig. He stroked her feathers, "Girl, I need you to bring this to Lawyer Ehrmann wait for a reply, and if he gives you one bring it straight to me, no detours." With a nip to his fingers she was gone.

With the first Flourish & Blotts order and the catalog requests done, and his Gringotts account soon to be 100 galleons lighter, Harry smiled. He still had much to do, but some things were getting done and he didn't feel as powerless as he usually did when he was contemplating returning to Privet Drive. He briefly thought of getting another book in his interlibrary loan book, as he'd read all the blood sections, but amount of time to save the other pages of the book, would make him too late.

* * *

Dean and Seamus were talking animatedly when Harry arrived in the Great Hall, Neville had been looking for him, and immediately relaxed into his seat and smiled when he spotted Harry. Only Flittwick and Sinestra were at the head table, rather curiously empty. Harry sat down next to his dorm mates with a smile, and loaded up his plate.

At the end of dinner Hedwig returned, and nearly dropped the letter into his pudding. It looked charred, and the envelope was only evident in that there was a lighter x on the back of the letter. The top of it looked like it had been pierced with her talons. Harry worriedly tended to Hedwig petting her with one hand as he offered her his goblet of water. "Are you okay girl?"

Hedwig nipped his fingers, she looked proud. "What happened girl? Was it a death eater?"

Hedwig shook her head, fluffed up like she was offended at the suggestion. Neville spoke up, "There must be mail restriction wards."

Seamus looked confused, "But why would Harry's mail…" He laughed, "More Boy in the Papers crap, eh?"

Harry laughed, "Never heard it that way, but it is all crap. Guess I need to figure out how to get my mail without it getting charred."

Neville had a tight frown. "Only the recipient is supposed to be able to place mail wards."

"So Harry what was worthy of burning. Got a fangirl sending you her unmentionables?" Dean joked.

Harry opened the letter only long enough to check the signature. "Only a reply to a letter I sent earlier. Nothing worth this drama. Maybe the teachers are working on the school wards or something." Hedwig bumped his hand and flew off.

"Hermione probably would know." With that the owl conversation ended, and when some of the fourth years came over to settle a debate about whether quidditch or football crowd riots were more dangerous, Harry and Neville snuck away.

* * *

After they were in the Room of Requirement, outside of which they talked about dueling, Harry and Neville settled into the comfortable armchairs the room provided. The room was bare, the walls were stark white. There was a table and two bookshelves full of books and a large padded dueling area on the far side of the room. Just in case, Harry cast silenceos on the eight corners of the room and the door before he pulled the letter from his pocket.

"Boy, I think the room really doesn't want to be accused of spying on you." Neville said with a wary tone to his voice.

Harry concentrated for a moment, and the walls turned deep blue. "There, a little less mental ward. I wonder if the other lawyers I contacted are going to be able to contact me."

Neville looked appalled. "That's against both Hogwart's bylaws and Ministry laws, probably even international laws! You can't block anyone's right to counsel."

Harry snorted, "Probably why I've never been taught anything about the Magical World. If I don't know my rights, how can I know if they've been violated?"

Neville replied, "Well, let's fix that. You've been raised as a muggle, right?"

"House-elf muggle, yes."

"And I bet you weren't given a copy of _**Mundane or Magical**_ or any orientation materials."

"There are orientation materials?"

Neville ran his hand through his hair, "Merlin, Harry, the Minister should have asked you a few questions, then Dumbledore would have been out on his arse. It's ridiculous how many laws he's broken. You are not only protected because you are the sole magical heir to old families, but you are still protected by the squib protection statutes until you are declared the magical heir of the Evans line."

"What the heck are the squib protection statutes?"

"Well, I think I've told you a couple times about my great-uncle, but not knowing about the Statutes probably made it sound like he was trying to kill me." Neville paused for a moment, "Anyway, about the time of the Magna Carta, protections were given to squibs, charms at birth that would take them to the nearest muggle hospital if they were attacked in a way that could severely hurt them. Helped with muggle relations, after all, hard to get along with them when they see the Wizards killing their squib children." Neville chuckled darkly, "That's why Gran didn't kick my Uncle out of the estate, he'd proved I wasn't a complete squib."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he kept his silence.

"I wondered why you let Malfoy call you a half-blood. If nothing had happened to your parents, Harry, you'd still be famous. Your mom wasn't because your family was so old that the heir could only be a male. But all the old families are taught about Gambling Nicholas Evans when they learn about wizarding contracts. "

"Who?"

"See, Harry, your great or maybe great-great grandfather Nicholas Evans was a gambler. The story goes he constantly lost small amounts, but his marriage contract had arranged with Gringotts that he was only given an allowance for this habit of his. Anyways, he thought he was finally striking it lucky, which spurred him on to bet larger amounts. But rather than save his winnings, he spent them, apparently telling his wife he had given up gambling. So then came the World Cup and he bet more than he had. He didn't go to his wife, instead he got a loan from a cousin from a bastard branch of the family, Marvolo or something like that, anyways he swore on his magic and that of his firstborn heirs that he'd repay the cousin within a week. He didn't. And his wife didn't find out until her son was a squib. She was granted the first divorce with full custody of children and property for a woman in Wizarding Britain. And after that magical contracts by law could only be enforced on the signatory parties. It effectively granted children rights as people not property, thus leading to the Squib Protection statues."

Harry's head felt like it was spinning. "So my mom wasn't a muggleborn, she was just the second-born."

"Not just the second-born, Harry. The first witch to receive her power in at least two generations. She must have been powerful. Making you even more so, as the first heir." Neville stood then and started to pace a bit. "You have a cousin, right? A muggle cousin?"

"Or squib I guess."

"Then your parents must not have been able to repay the debt."

"Debt?"

"Losing your magic for good is considered too harsh of a penalty to not have opportunity of relief." Neville stopped pacing, looking directly at Harry, "Possibly your Aunt refused to pay any part of the debt."

"Why would she have to?"

Neville went and sat back down, "Because then possibly she, but definitely her heirs would get back their magic. She'd be considered party to the contract. But if she got her magic yours could be less, but you'd have to risk it anyway if you want your kids to have magic."

"What?"

"Well, Harry, it would mean that you'd have to be second born." Neville's face was apologetic, "Until the contract is paid, and an adult male is declared Heir, all your family would be under squib protection."

"But then how could Voldemort kill my mum?"

"There's no magical protection that can save you from the killing curse."

They sat in silence for a while.

"I guess I need this lawyer for more than my godfather's estate, huh."

"Sorry, Harry. But I think you do."

Harry stood up. "Neville, do you know why we aren't supposed to do magic over the summer?"

Neville shook his head.

"Well, you probably shouldn't let anyone know, but my Godfather told me that it was supposed to be so we could rebuild our magic cores after the end of year tests."

"The OWLs weren't fun, but not enough to cause magical exhaustion."

"And there, Neville, is why wizards today are so much weaker than in any of the stories Binns tells, except for maybe Durmstrang, and the Death Eaters." Harry stood and walked to the dueling area. "Every time you use all your magic, or nearly so, your core grows."

Neville had followed and stood a good paces from Harry facing him, "So, they are making us weaker on purpose."

Harry nodded, "He didn't say if it was the Ministry or Dumbledore but it must be on purpose. Sirius said the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws both still passed it down, very secretly. He only knew because his family was Slytherin and thought he would be. He told his friends, but they didn't make it known because Dumbledore had to be at least not protesting the change."

Neville sighed, "Meaning the students who would be more likely to ignore the rules for knowledge or power's sake would be more powerful."

"And the reason it was before summer break, was that it needs to regrow naturally, with time. Any potions would weaken rather than grow your core."

Neville looked at Harry, "So how do we use all our magic without Dumbledore knowing?"

Harry smiled.

* * *

_AN: I do so like Neville. Thanks everyone who has reviewed. Your comments are good fodder for the muses.  
_


	11. Spiritual Aides

_Not a single character of my own yet._

* * *

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

Part 11 : Spiritual Aides

* * *

Harry had 'asked' the room for a book that would give them spells that would help them expend their magical reserves. The text that appeared was the Guide for Examiners: Defense Against the Dark Arts Newt. For an hour they poured their magic into alternating shields and stunners, ending with the Patronus spell. Neville's mist was far more substantial and seemed close to a form. When Harry asked if Neville had changed memories, the other boy shrugged with a smile and said that his devil's snare had already rooted. Harry had wanted to see if he could perform another Patronus without dispelling the first. However, the stag was far more misty than it had been, and he had to spend his energy into making it more substantial. He found though, that after the first Prongs was dismissed the second had been stronger, and he felt happier.

Neville and Harry agreed to spend an hour each morning and two after dinner exerting their all. Neville had gone back to the greenhouse to tend his cuttings, a little after seven. Having time to spare before the ghosts would be joining him, Harry pulled out the Families book and resized it, as well as his interlibrary loan book. He had read all the blood ward sections, the second half of the book contained the desperate protections. With the time on his hands, and Remus at his disposal, Harry had no doubt Sirius's suggested reading list was well thought out. So now that he was fairly certain that the blood wards were useless, he set out saving the second half of the book to the reserve section of the book. Tomorrow he would be able to chose another book on his walk before breakfast, Mental Arts, or How to keep a Manipulative Headmaster from realizing he blew up his Pedestal.

There were 300 pages to save, so Harry was going through at a good clip, but luckily his book slipped a bit and he got a good look at page 498. With an illustration of a squalling infant settling and even smiling upon receiving a glowing unicorn, the page was titled Patronus Pals. Harry hit save on the page, with a grin. The Pals were essentially transfigured toys with layers of charms to hold the sense of peace and happiness of the patronus with charms to repel dark energy. The book gave an account of a child being saved from a dementor attack, at the picnic the family had attended only the people closest to the baby and the child and their toys hadn't been approached by a dementor. While the parents had shot off Patronuses, the only explanation for the child playing on the other side of the park with other children being safe had been the unicorn she had insisted she bring with her to the sandbox. Harry smiled, tomorrow he'd get his first teddy bear.

Harry had finished the book and was working on transfiguring the label he'd torn out of his shirt into a bear when the ghosts came in. He'd only been expecting the Bloody Baron and Sir Nicholas but Professor Binns accompanied them. "Mr. Potter, Heir of Gryffindor, may I present the Baron and the Professor."

"Pleased to see you again."

Professor Binns glided ahead of the others a bit, "Not more than I. Imagine if you can dying choosing to be a ghost to finish your major work, your dream, your piece of immortality – only to be forced into a half-state teaching only about goblin wars." The ghost threw up his hands, "And not even the more accurate accounts, or with contrast from the goblin point of view! No! Pure ministry drivel that I had been campaigning to correct on the Exams for my whole career!"

"All that dreck was forced on us by Dumbledore!" Harry shook his head, "No, better for him, it was the ministry, so he could still appear pro-goblin politically without the students learning anything in class."

The Baron gave a deep laugh, "I knew you were in the wrong house, young heir."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, it seems the man I thought was my trusted colleague has served to make my beloved subject a farce." Professor Binns, though he looked downcast still had more animation than he had in the five years Harry had sat his class.

"So do you get to move on once you finish your book on the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked.

Binns looked at Sir Nick, "I see the knight has given you hints. No," the Professor smiled at Harry, "I'm revising Hogwarts: A History. Starting with the accounts of the founders, and I need your help to access Slytherin's diaries."

Sir Nicholas spoke, "Surely you wondered why Myrtle didn't avenge herself, or reveal who had been in her bathroom your second year?"

Harry groaned, "Did he put any protections on the entrance or go down there himself?"

The Baron laughed, "Of course not, Harry, after all unless one leaves open the door, how can the prodigal son return?"

Harry looked sharply at the Baron, "They're allied?"

Sir Nicholas spoke quickly as sparks began to appear in the air near Harry, "No. A poor choice of phrase."

The Baron said, "Not allies nor poor choice of phrase, Riddle was a favorite of Dumbledore until the boy demanded to stay at the school, in his third year."

Nicholas replied, "You mean until the boy uncovered the texts of the Founders in the library, exclaiming over his heritage."

"So are there more books?"

Binns replied, "Of course."

oOOo

A little while later with a command issued by Harry but made up by Binns, Sir Nicolas and Professor Binns were off to search the school and Dumbledore's estates respectively for the books of the Founders. Harry was left alone with the Slytherin ghost, "So why didn't Dumbledore take all the books out of the library rather than hiding them?"

"Before there were bookplates, there were automatic return charms. Three weeks off the shelf, then to return no matter how far, or in case of damage about to occur – too warm or wet, and back they'd go. However, Dumbledore is skillful with obliviate so he was able to take some by having Riddle perform a countercharm only a Heir could use. But he was patient, and forgot that boys start saying no, and forgot the countercharm would expire without exposure to an heir every so often."

"Not to mention if he had bookplates of his own he might not have noticed."

The Baron looked thoughtful, "Perhaps that will be the best place for the others to look next, to see which of the Founders' books Dumbledore has put his personal plate in. Yes, it would likely help you see what the Headmaster found most interesting."

"So young Heir, what do you need most?"

Harry pulled at the cuffs of his robes. "Time. I've not been able to go through half the stuff I have to read, let alone figure out what it all means." At Harry's pronouncement what looked like two large hourglasses appeared on the wall, one filled with black sand, the other with silver.

At Harry's shocked look the Baron said, "Have you forgotten so quickly? This is the Room of Requirement, anything it can grant within the confines of these four walls without breaking laws of magic or nature can be granted."

Harry stood and walked up to the hourglasses, "So what can these do? If it has to be within the confines of the room, I don't think this is a time-turner."

"No, not something so sloppy and inelegant as a time-turner, for that can break nature's laws. And the price young Heir is some of the user's magic."

Harry turned to the Baron alarm written on his features.

"Not permanently, but the effects are more pronounced the more you use a time turner. In your case, it merely served the purpose you and Mr. Longbottom aim to fulfill, depleting your stores for replenishment and growth over the summer. However, in Miss Granger's case she needs to see someone in St. Mungo's, a specialist, to be able to recoup her full potential."

Harry turned back to the hour-glasses, "Is Madam Pomfrey able to help her, but won't?"

"The girl needs a full healer. There are reasons a full physical from a Healer is required as part of the bylaws of this school, though only Ravenclaw and Slytherin heads of house uphold the requirement presently. A healer is far more skilled than a Mediwitch, and can diagnose past ills and their causes. Abuse, bullying and ailments yet to present symptoms can all be read under a trained Healer's crystal wand."

"Are visits to a Healer expensive?"

"Yes, though if for a required school physical the charge is waived. It is no wonder the Healers have made Dumbledore a honorary Healer."

Harry wanted to bang his head against the wall. So many checks on the power of the Headmaster, and he had not only managed to slip past each one but to garner praise and unquestioning support from so many. "Every time I think there cannot be more it dumps on top of me." Harry shook his head, "So, Sir Baron, how can the room give me more time, because I have the feeling there is even more going on here than I thought."

The Baron explained how to spell the hourglasses to gain time in the room. The hourglass with black sand represented the outside world, and the silver sand time in the room. To make each second in the room last longer, he needed to only tip the black glass as close to vertical, that would still allow sand to escape as possible. Time had to pass outside, for it would break nature otherwise, so the best Harry could do would be a hour per second, or 150 days in one hour. The discussion of the significance of this was filled with more shocks for Harry.

"So unless I take an age slowing potion, which the room can only provide me with because Dumbledore didn't destroy the Stone, I will age and reach my birthdays in this room. And if I turn 17 the ministry will be notified, and thus Dumbledore, but for each day I age in the castle the stronger the wards. And the wards are weak, because someone put preservation charms on the tombs of the founders and the heirs buried in the crypt, and they stopped burying the heirs there."

Unprepared for the extra complications, Harry chose to slow time only for the duration of a night's reading, starting with the letter from the attorney who had been in charge of the Potter Trust before 1981, the one who kept his distant French cousins from taking his inheritance.

oOOo

* * *

_Yes, perhaps it is a bit cliche to manipulate time for Harry, but it's the Room of Requirement! What does Harry need more than time to figure out how complicated the spiderwebs he's caught in are? Especially when he doesn't want to wake the spiders, he has to stay still to stay alive and himself long enough to get free._

_Thanks for your reviews. _


	12. In the Room of Requirement

Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

AN: Read the book. Wish it was a fanfic. Ms. Rowling must not have known any smart 15 year olds. HBP never happened.

From last time:

_Unprepared for the extra complications, Harry chose to slow time only for the duration of a night's reading, starting with the letter from the attorney who had been in charge of the Potter Trust before 1981, the one who kept his distant French cousins from taking his inheritance._

oOOo

Part 12

Ehrmann's letter was short.

_Mr. Harry Potter, _

_It would be my honor to resume my post as the Potter family barrister, if you so chose. I must inform you that the letter you sent was damaged, apparently by a mail screening ward of some kind. Previous advisories from my office to you have gone unanswered, and as such I am wondering if this is due to involuntary mail wards. It is a violation of Ministry and International Law to obstruct or impede legal correspondence. _

There was no signature, the paper was short enough that Harry didn't think there was too much more on the original letter but he was fairly certain there had been at least another sentence. Hedwig hadn't grabbed it before it was done, it was obviously put in an envelope, and she'd never do something like that. And Harry didn't know anyone who ended a letter without a signature or mark of some kind. Harry added mail wards to his mental list of things to do before he left the room.

Harry then concentrated on his need for tea and books on the Mental Arts. A full tea service with pastries appeared along with two stacks of books. Harry poured himself a cup of tea and grabbed a scone and the first book off the stack.

_Shielding your Mind: A Thorough Guide to Mental Protection_ was as it's title suggested very thorough. Overly thorough and dull as could be in fact. To Harry it seemed to be for people who taught Mental Arts as it compared every method of instruction with efficacy rates and the like. The only thing he was really able to glean from the book, as the methods of teaching were described in brief, was that Snape's method of teaching him was supposed to be the most effective for who Snape kept saying Harry was, a spoiled brat who enjoyed getting into mischief. However, since Harry was a half-starved servant to his relatives, and his adventures around the school weren't for fun, it was the exact wrong method by which to teach Harry. No matter how many times Snape invaded Harry's mind there was no hope for the method to work.

Harry decided he need to go to sleep. The lights in the room dimmed and a large four poster bed, like his in Gryffindor Tower appeared, as did a door by the foot of it. Harry went over and prodded open the door with his foot. His face lit up when he saw it was a bathroom with a regular sized tub.

Harry went to sleep an hour later, his muscles relaxed the way only a hot soak could get them.

---

When Harry woke he felt more rested than he had in ages. He had no Volde visions, and happily couldn't remember any of his dreams. Not to mention the lack of snoring, farting, and assorted other noises that come with sleeping in a dorm with four other boys. Despite what Hermione and Ron thought, the silencing spells on his bed curtains weren't only for his roommates' benefit. Harry stretched and as his hands stretched wide over his head, his right hand hit something. Harry tugged the bed curtain open for light and turned around and looked, it was a dream-catcher. On it's web there were shining drops like dew only black, Harry reached to touch one and…

_Sirius falling towards the veil, Remus holding him back, "You killed him.", "Crucio!", poor little…_

Harry jerked his hand back. He really needed to learn to control his impulsive behavior. Holding his hand out Harry slipped from the bed into the bathroom and washed the inky residue from his hand. Seeing his clothes from before cleaned and pressed hanging on a hanger on the back of the door, Harry washed up and got dressed.

At the table, the tea from before was gone, replaced with breakfast. He smiled, grabbed another Mental Arts book and sat down to eat. _Building up your Brain_ was aimed at the self-help crowd, and as such, it had tons of pictures and charts and little depth to the text. Which did make it a decent introduction to Occlumency, Legilimency, and many forms of mediation, but its lack of further suggestions on sources to learn more reduced it's value. Harry set it aside, it would be good to show to Neville, Harry could no longer assume Dumbles or Snape wouldn't try to peek in his friends' heads if Harry managed to block them out.

Harry spent the next few hours looking through the Mental Arts books the room had provided. He continued sorting them into **Interesting** and **Useless** piles, but after the fifth book he had given up hope of finding a good source among them. The books on Sirius' suggested booklist were not among those on the table - so after taking briefer and briefer looks at the books, Harry decided to break for lunch.

One complication Harry had was that he hadn't brought parchment or paper with him into the room. Since the RoR wouldn't let him remove any of the materials the book provided, he needed to find a way around it. Harry was very conscious of the fact Dumbledore was watching him, and Harry didn't want to risk being prevented from returning to the room with Neville tomorrow outside time. As Harry pondered his problems, the round table doubled in size, the Useless books disappeared and the remaining Mental Arts books moved to the far side of the table. As thoughts ran through Harry's mind stacks of books would appear on the table, a shelf's worth at a time. When Harry's mind moved to a different subject a single book from each stack remained, all without the preoccupied wizard's notice.

As Harry finished his lasagna and wiped his fingers clean with his napkin, he finally noticed there were 29 new books on the table. Harry concentrated, asking the RoR to give him the books he needed to read most. The books he had brought with him into the room moved right in front of him, as the dishes disappeared. Looking down the stack, Harry saw the room had reordered the books. On top was _Families of Wizarding Britain_ volume P, Harry pulled the book down from the stack and opened it, his heart in his throat...

Working on more.. :)


	13. Patronus Pals

Universe not mine.

Last time in Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom

_As Harry finished his lasagna and wiped his fingers clean with his napkin, he finally noticed there were 29 new books on the table. Harry concentrated, asking the RoR to give him the books he needed to read most. The books he had brought with him into the room moved right in front of him, as the dishes disappeared. Looking down the stack, Harry saw the room had reordered the books. On top **was Families of Wizarding Britain volume P**, Harry pulled the book down from the stack and opened it, his heart in his throat..._

Part 13

Harry opened the book expectantly. The page he had filled out with the stylus looked the same, except all trace of the blood drops he'd put in the book were gone. Harry turned the page and smiled. A basic chart was there, with pictures of each of his parents in graduation garb above their birth and death dates. Lines joined their pictures to a wedding photo of the couple that Harry had never seen before, and lines from it led to a picture of him being held up between his parents, his mother smiling and seeming to laugh as his father tried to prompt baby Harry to wave at the camera as well. This was another photo he had never seen before, and as he took in the autumn backdrop and his own size, realized it had to have been taken close to his parents deaths. Next to Harry was a listing for Baby Potter died Oct 31, 1981, with what looked like a sonogram photo over it. His mother had been pregnant.

Harry studied the photo more closely, but there was no breeze to pull and push at their robes, and the flowing fabric hid any sign of a pregnancy. There were no other children listed. He was, as he always believed, his parents first and only son born to them. Which made a muddle of what Harry had learned from Neville. If he was the first born, the curse was supposed to have suppressed his magic and made the Marvolos' stronger. Could his mother had paid Riddle? That was unlikely, a supposed muggleborn would be killed on sight by Voldemort, not to mention Dudley and Aunt Petunia would have magic. Could Harry's Potter side have given him enough magic to make him a wizard without any of his Evans heritage? Would Harry gain rather than lose power if the magical contract his mother's ancestor had made was paid off?

Harry turned the page in the book, and found news recounts from various sources about his parents. The list of graduates from Hogwarts, that next to a picture of his parents first in line to receive their diplomas. There was their engagement and wedding announcement, which unfortunately just had their names under photos of them, but it made sense that his mother wouldn't want to draw attention to her parents during the first war. Then an announcement of his birth at St. Mungo's. Then began articles about their deaths. Harry skipped many pages, not wanting to read how wrong the world saw what happened. Twenty pages later, Harry found a shocking thing, his first grade photo and a story about he was thriving in the care of his "devoted muggle relatives" according to Head Mugwump Dumbledore. There were pictures and stories for each of his primary years. Pure fiction, and the pictures were his school picture photo, the one that came for free for every kid to take home with the order form. He could see on some of them that the stamp of PROOF over him was badly covered up.

Harry set the book on the table, and curled into a ball on his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He had never wondered how so many people recognized him, he always just thought that the scar was enough to set him apart. Well, that and how much everyone told him he resembled his father. Dumbledore had been more clever than Harry had thought. Quelling the public's need to know with updates twice a year, including the photos that Aunt Petunia had always given him specific clothes to wear for. (The nicer hand-me-downs of Dudley's that were years older, so fit, and mended and pressed the day of pictures.) By putting in the paper that Harry was well-treated, who would insist on checking in on him? By putting that his relatives were understandably afraid of dark wizards, it explained why Harry had no contact with the Wizarding World until he went to Hogwarts.

Stupid sheep. Not that there weren't plenty of people to "run into" him and bow and crap like that. Not that some of those who "ran into" him should have noticed he wasn't well dressed or fed. Sheep.

Harry rubbed at his eyes, uncurled from his chair, and then stood up. He needed the lawyer more than Sirius might have known. He needed information on magical contracts, because if Voldemort knew about the magical contract his choice made even more sense. Kill the family and the boy who by rights could take power from him. Kill the squib heir of Gryffindor, and insure that the contract could never be fulfilled. No worries about why the boy wasn't a squib.

Harry began to pace around the table. When he was young, he'd been so happy that his aunt wanted to dress up for picture day. All his classmates were eager too, talking about how their parents would buy them pictures to trade. Harry had actually gotten his hair to behave, and thought his aunt would put his picture up at home. Instead his aunt snatched the order form away, tearing it up in front of his eyes. The next year, Harry tried to hide the photos, it was one of the few times his aunt actually beat him, and still Dudley stole them from his school desk. His aunt had sneered at him, when Harry begged to keep it, "No one needs to see a picture of a freak."

Sometimes Harry could really sympathize with the idea of murdering muggles... and Headmasters.

But thinking of all the crap they had done to him wasn't helping to get justice or prevent it from continuing. Harry flopped back into the chair and looked at the book after the stories about him. It was blank. Harry wanted to learn more about his grandparents and parents, so he went back to the front page and with a quick stab of the stylus, put a couple more drops of blood in the circle. Harry left the book open to that page and set it on the table.

The next book on the stack was his interlibrary loan book, now. Before he opened _Families _the next book had been _Heirs of Hogwarts_ so apparently the room thought Harry needed to **do** something. Harry smiled in agreement. He opened the book to the page on the Patronus Pals. Harry smiled as the room provided a teddy bear for him to start with.

oOOo

He felt better. The successive castings of the Patronus charm focused his thoughts on happy things. The teddy bear the room had provided had a silvery glow to the eyes and to the jewels on its tie. The Pals required crystalline structures to maintain the energy of the spells. Glass would slump under the heat of the energy, and the more complex the crystalline structure the more powerful the Pal could be.

So Harry needed to acquire multiple plush toys and store diamonds or the like in them, or have crystals used for their eyes and adornments. The comfort of hugging the Pal helped create the positive feelings which in turn helped maintain the charm. So once created, a well-loved Pal likely wouldn't need recharged, unless it was exposed to a dementor or dark magic. However, the toy couldn't be conjured, and would have a shorter lifetime if it was transfigured. The conversion of energy into mass would eventually become unstable with the energy flow from the Pal.

Harry wondered if chemistry held the knowledge to stabilize conjured items. Or physics - wasn't quantum physics about how the atom's components worked? Or maybe Harry hadn't found the right book yet. Neville might have some idea.

Harry took off his shirt and the undershirt he was wearing to hide the dragonskin vest. He found the stack of catalogs and order forms and after a moment's contemplation whether ink from the room would stay on the paper outside the room, tore the tag from the undershirt and transfigured it into an ballpoint pen. He filled out a blank for McGoens again, adding RUSH and a note that this order was needed as soon as possible. He ordered a variety of stuffed animals, a ready-made dreamcatcher, and a kit to make his own dreamcatcher. The toys came standard with a retrieval charm on the collar - as soon as a name was inscribed on the tag on the collar the toy could be fetched by calling 'come toy '. But they didn't cover the crystals he needed, though a few came with the dreamcatcher kit.

Dazzlers had a wide assortment of jewelry and components on sale, offered with and without base enchantments. Harry couldn't understand why anyone would purchase the item with the base enchantments. Though it made it easy for a gift to make it look like you spent many weeks planning and doing the required spells, there was no way to test the enchantments power or number. Well, except by maxing out the enchantment which would destroy the enchantments and possibly the stone.

Harry thought about his Pal. He'd wanted a plushie of his own for most of his pre-school years. He needed to read more on enchantments to discover if the recommended diamonds did indeed have the strongest spell retention, but since he wanted to start he filled out an order form for Dazzlers, ordering some colored diamonds that were less expensive but larger and the beginner, intermediate, and advanced enchantment kits they offered. The total for all the gems was higher than he had spent on books for the last few years of Hogwarts, Harry paused a bit before signing the authorization for a draw against his vault, even though he now knew that this vault wasn't his only one.

Harry still wanted to know if he was getting a decent price. He pulled a thread free from the undershirt and transfigured it into parchment.

_Weazing Weasleys, _

_I have come upon a simple but lasting defense against dementors, called Patronus Pals. In their manufacture crystalline structured gems such as diamonds are recommended to hold the enchantment._

_Sorry if that's a bit stuffy. Been reading to fight off boredom. Anyhow, do you guys have any recommendations for suppliers and alternatives to diamonds - maybe that could hold a stronger enchantment? I have a feeling diamonds are recommended more for looks than oomph. If Umbridge sends more dementors after me, it'd be nice to skip having to have a trial._

_Harry_

_PS - Do you guys know any alternative to owls that is secure? Don't want Hedwig to get injured this summer. Thanks._

He read over his letter, and mentally shrugged. He pulled out another thread from the seam of his shirt and made it an envelope, then repeated the action twice more. Harry finished up his orders and letters, placing the sealed envelopes in a pile on the edge of the table. He decided to spend one more day in the room before leaving, sending his mail, and going to bed in Gryffindor tower. He pulled off more threads and made more parchment, knowing he needed to make a checklist later. His time was flying slower, but still flying, and he didn't have a taskmaster Hermione to whip him into gear.

Harry then tore the shirt into 6 pieces. Grabbing his a transfiguration book that had moved to the top of the pile, Harry began making the three pals he wanted to complete.

oOOOo

_Sorry if this one was a bit dry. At least it was longer, right:)_


	14. A Man and his Plushie

6

**Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom**

Part 14

Harry surveyed his checklist with a sense of accomplishment.

Transfigure and Charge Patronus Pals

Read up on Mail Wards and Owl Protection Charms

Start Evans _Families_ check

Write Lawyer about half letter & mail wards ?visit?

Read about Wards

Harry had also had the room make him a bike trail and some weight sets to exercise a bit. It had been so long since he had ridden that he'd been happy the room provided a one speed bike. The best part had been when he'd hit a 'tree root' on the trail and fell off, the room had cushioned the fall. The twinkling of the lights though the 'trees' of the trail had made him think the room was laughing at him a bit, as he'd been laughing at himself. After all, how could he have thought riding though a wooded trail would be easy, when he'd never done it before? He folded his checklist and put it in his pocket.

The Pals were in a bag he'd slung over his shoulder, and he'd reset the time controls of the room. Books, notes, checklist, and catalogs shrunk and replaced in his pocket, while the mail he needed to send was in his hand. Finally he had gotten something started. With a smile, Harry left the Room of Requirement.

oOOo

After tending to Hedwig, and her insisting on taking some of his mail, he decided to send the lawyer letter with her, and the rest with school owls. He asked Barrister Ehrmann to send a copy of any correspondence for the next week to Neville, double sealed to maintain attorney-client secrecy.

Harry was nearly back to the tower, lost in thoughts and plans, when he literally ran into Professor Snape, or would have, if the Professor hadn't shoved his arms out.

"Potter, is your head too big to see?" Curiously the venom in the Professor's voice wasn't as acidic as usual.

"No, sir, I'm sorry. Just lost in thought." Harry noticed this hallway was empty even of portraits, and tried to get his courage up.

"That would be a new situation for you. Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape stepped wide and was about to continue down the hall...

"Wait sir." Snape swirled, a new glare on his face.

"I apologize, sir. For my behavior in remedial potions, I mean."

Snape stared at Harry for a moment. "A Gryffindor... apologizing? The apocalypse must be approaching."

"Dumbledore once said you hated my father for saving your life. But that was another lie. They should have been punished, sir. I'm sorry for imposing on your privacy, and for their behavior."

Snape was frozen there, gobsmacked. Harry left, retreat being the smartest course.

oOOo

A few hours later after much quidditch discussion and a couple good games of Snap, Harry fell asleep concentrating on the sounds of the ocean, all three Pals at the foot of his bed. His dreams were the best he had all year.

oOOo

In the morning, Harry woke with a smile. He felt he'd accomplished something for the first time in a long time.

He'd made a resolution while he was in the RoR that he would behave like an adult although the adults around him were not. It was the right thing to apologize to Snape, Harry had been wrong to do what he had. Snape's mistakes might be larger, might make Harry scream for justice at times, but letting himself sink to Snape's level would only harm Harry. Harry wondered if the potions professor had never been lied to by Dumbledore before Harry, even if this was the case, to believe on a man's word that the goat in front of you was a unicorn, even when the pasted horn fell off and the animal bleated, was idiocy supposed to be reserved for carnival sideshows.

Then again, despite the wizarding world knowing numerous ways to create illusions and pretend to be someone else, rumor and appearances were treated as gospel. Harry shook his head, rolled out of bed and prepared to meet another precious day.

oOOo

He'd grabbed breakfast from the kitchens again, not ready to confront McGonagall. He took his walk around the grounds, and retrieved the mind magic book. He saw a bunch of lower years heading to the quidditch pitch and knew tonight he'd have to speak to his Head of House. He wanted his broom back.

oOOo

Ron and Hermione were in good spirits, when Harry arrived for his daily visit in the hospital wing.

Ron beamed at Harry, "Hey mate, we get sprung from here before the feast!"

Harry smiled in return, as Hermione added, "I'll still be on potions for most of the summer, but Madam Pomphrey said Wednesday, we could return to the dorms."

"Just in time for the best parties. Right, Harry?"

Harry laughed, "Even if I have to pay for the butterbeer myself! So quidditch Wednesday?"

Ron nodded eagerly, as Hermione frowned. "Are you sure you shouldn't wait?"

Ron shook his head, "Been keeping Harry waiting too long anyhow. I'm a keeper, I grip the broom with my thighs not my hands."

Harry jumped in, "It'll be a friendly game, not a match, Hermione. We don' t use bludgers."

Ron smiled, "See, Hermione."

Hermione crossed her arms and responded quietly, "Just wait, please. See how you feel on Wednesday, and decide then. I don't want you getting hurt, that's all."

Harry and Ron smiled at her, "Yes, 'Mione."

She smiled back.

Harry pulled the quidditch catalogs out of his pocket, along with the books catalogs for Hermione. "So let's order us some new brooms, and Hermione some books for next week."

Ron accepted the catalogs, "Wednesday? Are you getting to go to Gringotts?"

"Did you choose a lawyer?"

"No, and maybe," Harry answered. Seeing the reactions on his friends' faces, he held up his hand. "Hang on... I think there is something wrong with my mail. I got a letter back from one of the lawyers," Harry noticed a portrait out of the corner of his eye perking up, "And it was burnt, and Hedwig was ruffled up too. The guys thought it had to be mail wards."

"Mail wards? Still?"

"Yes, Hermione. And I haven't been able to talk to McGonagall."

"They canceled the classes, though... There should be plenty of time for the teachers to meet with students. Are they even gathering evidence."

Harry shook his head, "I don't think so. Malfoy and his Squad have been lying low, and there hasn't been an announcement, at least that I've heard of."

"Ginny and the guys never mentioned it when they have come to visit. We'll have to ask, since you've been here during lunch a lot," Ron added.

Hermione shook her head, 'If they were gathering evidence, they'd have aurors here. We would have been asked."

Harry and Ron shared a look, she was starting to plan.

"So about the brooms, Ron?"

Ron frowned, "Harry, if we order now, won't it come out of your personal account?"

Harry shrugged, and sat on the foot of Ron's bed, dropping his bag on the floor, "I'm not saying we order all the brooms you were thinking of for training or the stuff for the team. I think those will be a great way to remember Sirius, and I still want to order them later... But," Harry paused, "I don't know where I'll be all summer. And I'd like to fly my new broom when its still new."

Harry thought it was a good sign that Ron didn't answer right away, and his ears weren't turning red, and pressed his case. "And well, I think it might be good to get some long-distance brooms for emergencies."

Ron's head jerked up at that, "That's how... Last summer."

Harry nodded. "I think some of the American brooms are meant for families. Didn't the Twins tease Ginny about getting her the Papoose?"

Ron laughed, "Yeah, and then got tricked into setting off several of their own pranks."

"Hermione, did Dumbledore give your family any sort of escape plan?"

The studious girl had been paying more attention to her book catalog than the boys. "What?"

Ron repeated what Harry had said.

Hermione shook her head, "Not yet at least. I was going to ask for a portkey."

Ron nodded, but Harry shook his head. "If you got attacked that'd be the first thing they'd ward against. Everyone knows you like your parents. With me, it'd be apparition."

Ron protested, "Anti-portkey wards are some of the hardest to cast...

"And you guys are my best friends, even if I announced to the Prophet I hated you now, Voldemort wouldn't send new recruits after you."

"And my parents couldn't get a broom to fly, at least a legal one, and I can't fly that well myself. Maybe there is a ward?"

Ron spoke up, "There are American family brooms that let you couple them together. They're legal, and since the driver broom has multiple cores its almost as good as a flying car."

Hermione still looked hesitant, "If we order a set for you now, you could practice a bit. And everyone knows how much you hate flying, so they'd never expect it."

She shook her head, "To be useful, I'd have to practice, and if I practice they'd know."

Harry smiled, and pulled out his trump card, "Not if we used the Room of Requirement."

Hermione worried her bottom lip, "You promise you'll put the amount you pay back into your account when you get the inheritance?"

Harry froze, and looked away.

"I didn't mean… Harry… I just I know he told you to spend the money how you liked, but I don't want to spend your money."

Harry glared back at her, "The money doesn't matter to me! All it does is gather dust! If something happened to you, and we didn't get every little thing we could… How do you think I would feel? Cripes, Hermione. I know your parents are dentists, with your trips I know you could get the brooms yourself."

Harry stood and walked towards the windows. "Sirius is gone. And if we'd had a way to contact him, if Kreacher hadn't gotten in the way, if…" Harry trailed off, staring out the window at the people flying around the pitch.

Ron had found the family lines of brooms in the meantime and showed Hermione the picture he'd called up of the Caravan series, put out by Northwest American Broomworks. The picture showed a mother on the driver broom tending to a baby strapped in a carrier seat to a side broom, without the broom jostling at all. "They're steady, and have some autopilot features. Supposed to be the only legal way to get a ride like a riding carpet. See, they have wards that can keep all passengers in their seats, and they all have seatbelts too."

Hermione stared at Harry, before nodding to Ron. "Okay."

Harry nodded, and walked back to his friends. Before he sat back on the foot of Ron's bed, Harry picked up his bag. "I made something for you guys last night." Harry pulled out a teddy bear and a cat Pal from the bag, and set them next to him on the bed.

"I thought I'd let you guys make your final choice, since I don't know if the Twins ruined bears for you, Ron. Or if Crookshanks would be unhappy if you had a cat plushie, Hermione."

Hermione's face lit up, but Ron looked wary. "Um, mate, I think we're a bit old for plushies…"

Harry cut him off, "These aren't just plushies…"

"Are they transfigured? How did you get the eyes to glow?"

"I've been reading a lot, and these are supposed to be one of the only ways to store a Patronus."

Hermione cooed, and grabbed up the cat plushie, and inspected it. "How does it retain the charm?"

Harry shifted a bit, knowing Ron might not be too comfortable with his reply, "Well, the crystal stores the charm, but it gets recharged, well, by the positive feelings holding it gives."

"So these are meant for kids," Ron said.

"I've made myself one, too." Harry pulled a snake plushie that was a bit smaller than the other two out of his bag. "And I already wrote the Twins, Ron, so it should be ok. Think about it, if they could make these, and get them out there, the Dementors would be worthless."

"And you wouldn't have to use magic! This could keep muggles safe, too!"

"Apparently the parents who made the first ones just wanted to get their babies to sleep a bit longer at night, but it ended up saving the kids during an attack. Plus the book said it could help with spell damage, countering lingering bits of curses."

Ron reached out for the bear after that, inspecting it critically, like it would change into a spider any minute.

"And to answer your earlier question, Hermione, they are transfigured. So try to avoid adding any charms or doing more spells to them, the charm strains the transfiguration."

She nodded, and held out the plushie cat to Ron, "If you want, we could trade?"

Ron looked at the cat, and then the bear. "Um, maybe, I could keep the bear until the train, and then we could trade."

Harry smiled, "That sounds like a great idea! The Twins would never dare mess with anything of Hermione's."

Hermione smiled, and put the plushie cat next to her most injured side. "So what are they called?"

"Patronus Pals."

Ron set his Pal down, with a small smile. "Thanks, Harry."

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry smiled, "Now what about brooms?"

oOOo

6

_Dear Readers, please remember, this story started shortly after Harry got out of Dumbledore's office and heard the prophecy. And yes, yet another chapter where little time passes, he's still got a lot to get done:)_


	15. A Long Overdue Meeting

**Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom**

_**Part 15: A Long Overdue Meeting.**_

Harry spent most of the day with Ron and Hermione. After lunch, he had been sent on a library run, and ran into Sir Nicholas and was startled that the ghost bounced off him. Before Harry could say anything, the ghost left with a wink and a wave. Hermione was now searching for the wards that Harry had been trying to figure out himself. Her mutterings were in the same vein as Harry's thoughts, protection that was portable. His packages from Dazzlers and McGoens had come, as well as a letter from Remus. None of the other four lawyers had gotten back to him. Even with the mail wards, Harry thought that was odd. Harry just added his mail to his bag, which he had done a bottomless charm on that morning.

Hermione had discovered that in the Personal Pitch section of Quality Quidditch Supplies' catalog there were many muggle repelling stakes that you could place around the edges of the area. She'd found enough warding related merchandise to end up outspending Harry and Ron. Of course, she'd tried to edit the list, but Harry snatched it away and finished the order. They didn't have the time to be thrifty.

Harry was still holding his cards close to his chest with his friends. Though the castle was to aid him, it was also to hide the aid – meaning everything he said to his friends was likely being monitored. And if Dumbledore dropped the mail wards, and started mass producing Patronus Pals (likely in the shape of lemon drops) maybe some good could come of it. But now Harry was keeping to portrait-free corridors, hoping to meet a professor he should have visited long ago.

oOo

The area of the castle near Ravenclaw Tower was more sparsely decorated than Gryffindor. There were no portraits, instead huge tapestries spaced along the corridors. Spotting a bust of Einstein in front of a tapestry of nebulas, Harry smiled. Perhaps it would have been better to be a Ravenclaw.

Approaching the Professor's office Harry stopped and took a deep breath, then knocked. The door opened, and Harry went inside. The office made Harry feel like a giant, for this room was obviously made with Professor Flitwick's stature in mind. Harry found himself wondering for the first time, why a professor teaching at this school for over twenty years had to stand on a stack of books in his own classroom. There were no portraits only tapestries on the exterior wall in between windows. On the right side was a seating area next to a floor to twelve foot ceiling wall of bookcases. The dark wood was same of that on Flitwick's desk, which was on a platform, making it so the smaller desk was still at an imposing height to the student who might sit in the facing chair. It was a simple yet elegant room that fit a master duelist and professor, unlike a shaky pile of books. The professor was bent over papers that he was marking with a red quill.

"Hello, sir."

Flitwick looked up and smiled. "Hello, young Harry." Flitwick blotted the quill he had been using, and put it in his desk drawer. "I've been hoping you would seek me out soon." He motioned to the chair, "Take a seat."

Harry sat, "Thank you, sir. May I ask, why you were hoping I would come here?"

"Why if nothing else to share stories of my favorite young Ravenclaw and apprentice to an appreciative audience," Flitwick beamed, and leaned back in his chair.

"Who, sir? My mother was a Gryffindor."

The professor shook his head, "Not for her first five years. Your mother was sorted into and loved all things Ravenclaw. It was only at the start of her sixth year that the resorting took place."

"You see, much like this year, the Hat made a dire warning for the outcome of the war if the Houses remained divided. While the most of the professors were discussing how to unite the houses – I thought circular tables for only 8 students would be ideal, allowing mingling at meals – the Headmaster announced, to the shock of all, that the best way to do this would be to resort."

Flitwick steepled his hands, "He then ordered all prefects of all houses to get into line, and before the first years were sorted the prefects were resorted. It was going spectacularly boring for no Gryffindors or Slytherins changed houses – though the hat did pause for quite some time on Remus Lupin and Severus Snape - until my Ravenclaws began to be sorted. Each and every one of my prefects were sorted into other houses. Hufflepuff lost only their female prefects.

He continued, "This of course caused chaos in the hall. Slytherins and Gryffindors threw hexes at each other. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were left without trained tour guides for their first years. And the poor girls who were resorted into Slytherin were in tears. Their reactions and the chaos had the first years, still to be sorted also in tears. If we hadn't blocking outgoing post for a week, most probably would have been home on the next train."

Flitwick nodded to himself, " And doubtlessly, Hogwarts would have been besieged by parents. As it was, when order was restored and the students were tucked away in their new houses; no one had noticed that mostly the muggle-raised students were the ones changed."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Odd, eh. The next day the Headmaster choose to strip students of their prefect status and replaced them with the new members of each house. Sometimes I think losing his prefect badge was really what drew Severus to the dark arts..."

Suddenly Flitwick clapped his hands. "But enough of that!" He rose and went to the tapestry of a smithy which was closest to the bookcase wall. With a motion of his hand, the tapestry pivoted out into the room, hinged at the left corner. Three portraits were revealed: one of Flitwick himself that didn't appear to move, the second one of two people who appeared to be Flitwick's parents, and the third... Lily and James Potter, holding a baby Harry between them.

In the portrait, unlike the one of Flitwick's parents, his parents' movements seemed constrained. For a moment, Harry didn't understand, until he noticed that Portrait Baby Harry like Flitwick was frozen, and thus the parts of his parents touching him were still too. Before Harry could ask the portrait a question, the professor made a "c" with his left hand, and the portraits moved from a line to a staggered sort of "C" shape. Flitwick then tapped the Potter portrait twice, his own once, his parents twice, and then finally the Potters' portrait once more. There was a popping noise, after which the professor removed the Potter portrait from the wall, revealing a small cubby hole in the wall.

Harry had risen and crossed the room, to stand only a few paces behind the professor, taking in the portrait with happy eyes. His mother and father were smiling at him. Flitwick went through the contents of the cubby, eventually removing two small cubes, and what could have been a muggle postage stamp. The professor set them on a table between two leather reading chairs, then with a quick flourish of his wand, the objects were resized. Flitwick then placed the resized portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw over the cubby hole.

The professor then motioned for Harry to take a seat, and sat in the other reading chair himself. "Your mother, Harry, was my last apprentice. She became my apprentice the year of the resort. As her father had just died that summer, with the added stress of adjusting to Gryffindor, I couldn't refuse her. And that is the start of why I was entrusted with some things for you."

Harry nodded, still staring at the portrait. "Hello."

His parents in the portrait beamed at Harry, "At last! Did Dumbledore finally give you your letter?"

Harry blinked at Lilly's words, "What letter?"

"Filius, I told you Sirius going to Azkaban was no mistake," James said.

"And I never disagreed with you."

Harry interrupted, "Professor, why did you think I came?"

Flitwick smiled, "I have no idea, Harry, but I wasn't going to squander the only chance I've had to speak with you without spies."

Harry looked around and confirmed that there were no gargoyles in the corners of the room.

"And I see you've learned the Headmaster's secret."

Harry didn't respond, inwardly kicking himself for being so obvious. "So why are you not in the Order, and why were my parents?"

Lily's portrait answered, "James was in the Order because his father had fought beside Dumbledore against Grindelwald."

Flitwick made a sound, that had the man been younger, Harry would have labeled a snort. "I still doubt that. It was far too convenient that the Headmaster waited until Henry was gone before he gave his recounting of the final battle."

"My father wouldn't have had access to the Founder's works. There is no dispute that the final spell was written by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor together."

Harry interrupted, "It wouldn't have happened to be in **Heirs of Hogwarts** would it?"

Lily was the first to respond, "How did you know?"

Harry shook his head. "No. This is a bit too wonderful. A portrait of my parents, something I've been longing for since first year. And the timing far too convenient." Harry pinched himself.

It hurt, and Harry had no headache. "Professor, may I see your arms?"

After the professor complied, Harry said "Revealo" and then again in parseltounge. The professor's arms stayed bare.

"Harry... You speak parsel?" James' voice held the hint of fear Harry knew all too well from his second year.

Lily hit her husband, well as much as she could manage with frozen baby Harry between them. "Idiot. Honey, I'm a parselmouth, too."

Harry looked to Flitwick, "Professor? Did you know?"

Flitwick shook his head.

Harry turned towards the professor, "Why didn't you try to contact me before?"

"I had an agreement with the Headmaster, after many disagreements, that I would wait for you to approach me about your mother before I told you about her. He was to give you the letter from your mother your first year. I thought he had. I thought it might be hard to hear about them, or you were afraid of living in their shadows..."

Harry shook his head, "It's easier to do nothing than to double check. This whole wizarding world is so backward!"

James chimed in, "Now you sound exactly like your mother."

Harry retorted, "I'm alternately lauded and reviled in the press. I am persecuted for pranks you performed on Snape as well as being more popular than the minister. The Durselys are neglectful and abusive, and Dumbledore has the world thinking they are excellent guardians. Sirius fell through the Veil. Voldemort sends me visions and crucios from afar; yet I'm not being taught how to fight, but how to turn turtles into teapots!"

Harry heaved in a breath, "Tell me how any of that makes sense!"

"But in our will, all those clauses..." Lily stammered.

"Are being totally ignored by Dumbledore. And the way the contract he signed is written, he could escape all the consequences." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Didn't Professor Flitwick tell you I was with the Durselys, that every year I've come here I've nearly been killed?"

"Harry, I'm sorry. This portrait... there are reasons why most paintings in the castle only have a single person. When parts of the painting are active without others, it strains the magic. The only reason this portrait still functions is that I've had it under a stasis spell. I only activated it a couple times a year, to make sure you were still alive, and more recently to tell your parents some of your accomplishments."

"Why did you have a portrait, sir?"

"Your mother didn't trust that help would come fast enough, if they were under attack. She commissioned the portrait as a stopgap. When your father's portrait awoke, I notified the aurors and headed to the Hollow, but I was too late. Sirius was leaving as I arrived, and Hagrid was about to take off on a motorcycle to take you to Dumbledore. The house was still in flames... You were crying, your forehead was bleeding. I told Hagrid to take to directly to Poppy, and went into the house..."

Flitwick shook himself. "I put the house to rights, grabbed the rosewood trunk put your parents' wands in it, sealed the house, and brought their bodies to Hogwarts for burial."

"They are buried here?"

"In the founder's crypt. In the chaos that ensued, no one asked for weeks."

"So what letter was Dumbledore supposed to give me?"

"It was a letter of advice, and pointed you to people who knew us, if you had questions."

"Oh."

"I can ask the Headmaster again, Harry, if you want it." Professor Flitwick murmured.

Harry shook his head, "He'd probably destroy it. If he hasn't already. He told me that he had told me everything, the other day, but it was just another lie."

James spoke, "Your mother wanted to make sure our personal things were saved and given to you, if anything happened. She had a vision of people stealing things and claiming them as souvenirs."

Lilly laughed, "Of course, at the time your father thought I'd just fallen asleep during the wrong spot of a Christmas Carol. But I believed it to be a true Vision, so I asked Filius to take care of things if something happened to us."

Harry asked, "So Godric's Hollow is just waiting for me?"

Flitwick nodded, "The house has sat empty for over fourteen years now. It will need some cleaning and updating to be comfortable."

Harry turned to his parents' portraits, "I don't want to risk you by keeping you out too long... Is there another portrait of you? Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Lily spoke up, "We have four more portraits. Two with us as a couple, they had been our parents', one is in the Hollow, the other in the family vault. The other two, individual portraits are in my Evans vault. The one in the Hollow, we updated daily, so it could tell you anything you need. I hope what is in the boxes can help you as you turn sixteen. Go home, Harry. Let Filius be your secret-keeper. We love you."

"The Veil isn't death, Harry. On Samhain, you might be able to retrieve him, but you'll need to get to my books. Check my diary, and you can find out how to get to the Department of Mysteries."

Harry stared in shock at his father, "He was hit by a red beam. Would he be hurt, will he be hungry?"

James answered, "I can't know. Check his vault, check mine, he was having a portrait made... Ask our portrait in the Hollow, if you can't find it, I think he used the same painter we did. We love you. Keep safe."

Harry nodded, "I'll do my best."

Flitwick restored the stasis spell. "When you are sixteen, you can take control of your finances. It's an old law, rarely used, but never revoked, it was thought a heir would need the guidance of their guardian as they assumed control of his monies."

Then Flitwick's wall clock began to chime, and its hand was pointing to "Suspiciously Late to Dinner!" Flitwick jumped at the sound and in a hurry: reopened the cubby, shrunk the portrait of Ravenclaw, replaced the Potters on the wall, and put the tapestry back in place. The professor then reshrunk the boxes and handed them to Harry. He then started walking to the door, and Harry followed, "Come back tomorrow afternoon; we'll talk more then. Wait before you go to dinner." Flitwick pulled a card out of his pocket, "This pass should get you in the Restricted Section. Get some books on the Fidelius Charm."

It wasn't until Harry was nearly to the library, that he froze. Did Flitwick know Harry had gone to his office just for the Fidelius Charm?

* * *

_Thank youfor your reviews. Slowly beginning to increase the length of thechapters, _**:D**


	16. Into the Room of Requirement

**Part 16 : _Into the Room_**

* * *

It was nearly seven by the time Harry made it into the Great Hall. If meals weren't extended for finals he'd have missed dinner. Most of the hall and head table including McGonagall were gone already. Neville gave Harry a relieved smile when he entered. Harry sat a book on the Fidelius Charm on the table, and set his bag on the floor next to him, as he sat across from Neville. Dean and Seamus appeared to be on their second desserts, and were arguing about football and rugby again. Harry wondered if tonight they'd actually spear each other on their forks, they were gesturing with. They nodded to Harry as he sat down. 

"So Neville, what did you do today?"

Neville blushed, "Luna stopped by the greenhouses today. Professor Sprout and I were setting up the automatic watering systems for the summer, so I didn't notice her right away. Then Luna somehow got caught in some Devil's Snare, and I had to stun her to free her without hurting the plant. When she was free and I revived her she wouldn't accept my apology. I should have used incendo or lumos to make the plant retreat. But she wouldn't accept an apology. She kissed me on the cheek and called me a, "Gallant Botanist."

Harry smiled, "That's Luna. Did you get a chance to visit the hospital wing?"

Neville smiled, "Apparently right after you left. Hermione explained the Patronus Pals as soon as I got in the door."

Harry laughed, "Probably was afraid that you'd make fun of Ron. Had you ever heard of them before?"

Neville shook his head, "Wouldn't be anything my Gran would go for though. Nothing soft and cuddly as a toy for a boy."

Dean interrupted, "What's this then?"

Harry replied, "So what was it that stopped the dueling forks?"

Seamus smiled, "Heard Ron's name."

Harry nodded. "I've been looking for defense stuff. Things I could use without getting in trouble again for Underage Magic use, again. Last summer dementors attacked my muggle cousin and I, but I got put on trial. Anyways, I found you can store a patronus in a plushie that has crystals in it."

"So you're saying Ron has a brand new plushie from his friend Harry?" Seamus' eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I'm saying Ron has a Patronus Pal, that can help heal the injuries he got from the Death Eaters faster and could help defend him if a dementor attacked him."

Dean leaned closer, "So are you going to call the DA together? Sounds like these could help everybody."

"I hadn't thought about that. I am hoping the Weasley Twins might make them, and sell them in their shop. A lot of people can't do the patronus, and you have to do quite a few of them to charge the crystals. And if parents get them for their little kids..."

Dean nodded, "Protect the innocent, but recoup the costs."

Harry shrugged, "And reassure the parents. I'm sure that since Voldemort," his roommates winced, "Made his debut at the Ministry there are bound to be people eager for anything they think can keep them safe. And I bet most of those things are going to be fake. These are real, a bit more expensive, unless I can figure out a cheaper crystal to hold the charm."

"Hermione said the ones you gave them were transfigured."

"Yeah, Neville, but the charm has enough power that it will eventually undo the transfiguration. If you take non-magical crystals and plushies, they can hold a more powerful charm for a longer time."

"But if the point is to take care of the summer, then transfigured materials might work," Seamus pointed out.

Harry sat back, his unease written on his face.

Dean chimed in, "We can warn everybody that they might not work or last long, but people are worried what will happen _this_ summer. If nothing else, it will give people a chance to practice their patronus. The Inquisition Squad kept us from really spending time on it."

Harry gave in, "People will need supplies, if you could get the word out. Make it open to anyone who is interested. They'll need a piece of clothing destined for the rag bin. You might try to especially tell people with little brothers or sisters."

Dean and Seamus nodded.

"Neville, I think we need to visit the house elves and see if they have any coal or any discarded crystals we could use." Harry turned back to Dean and Seamus, "When should we do this? Day before we leave?"

Dean answered, "You want to make sure Ron and Hermione can join us, right?"

Harry nodded, "Also we'll need to do some prep work for this to work, transfiguring crystals and plushies as examples, and we need to see if you guys could do a full patronus repeatedly."

Seamus looked hesitant, "I have no clue if I could cast one. I'm sorry I bailed on you guys."

"We'll try to do this in the muggle way, assembly line. So people will do the parts they are strongest at. If any of the girls or younger years had their parents shove a plushie in their trunks, ask them to bring them as well as a old piece of clothing."

Harry took a sip of water, "Hey, Neville, do you know if there is a children's ward in Saint Mungo's?"

"Yes, I think my Gran said there were about twenty kids in their long term care ward."

Harry smiled, "Write her. Maybe we could make this a competition - to see whose Pal lasts the longest."

"So we'd tag the Pals with a number, and the Pal that lasts the longest, the person who transfigures the Pal gets a prize."

"The Prophet would eat that up, wouldn't they?" Neville broke off, to look at Harry, a bit stunned.

Harry laughed, "The wrongly persecuted DA meets again and helps children in need, have a brighter day."

Seamus shook his head, chuckling, "And Malfoy will pop a vessel."

"So tonight, Neville and I will go to the kitchens and see if the elves can help with supplies, and you guys will ask the others if they want in. And tomorrow night, after dinner, we do a test run of some Pals. Agreed?"

The other three boys assented. And with that Seamus and Dean left for their task, Neville pulled out parchment to write his Gran, and Harry got some food on his plate.

oOoOo

After stopping by the Owlery and the Kitchens to speak with Dobby, though Harry had been tempted to call him out when the elf started cleaning the area he was watching them from in the Owlery. The elf had promised to put aside his other work, and look for the things Harry Potter needed right away. Neville and Harry then went to the Room of Requirement.

As Harry had hoped, the ghosts were already waiting on them when they entered the room, which had the same configuration as the day before. "Take a seat, Neville." Harry stood in front of the wall, and after a bit of concentration activated the time ratio hourglasses.

Harry then sat in his chair before addressing the ghosts. "Good evening, sirs. How did the search go?"

Sir Nicholas smiled, but Professor Binns looked as giddy as a child after half a bag of Halloween candy. "We found dozens of tomes thought lost!"

"Young Heir, we discovered many of Hogwarts and your family's books spelled and labeled by Dumbledore. Most were kept at his Hogsmede home." Sir Nicholas handed Harry a roll of parchment. "We grouped the books by owner and this lists the titles by location they were stored, and notes if he had added bookplates."

The Baron then spoke, "Is this boy worthy to be trusted, Heir?"

Harry looked over to Neville, who had gone quite pale, and nodded. "Yes. He's a great friend to have at your back. Did the professors do something today that I need to know about?"

The Baron replied, "I've occupied my day with ensuring that nothing tips off Dumbledore. Many of the paintings, and some of the ghosts have difficulty concealing their returned strength."

"I quite forgot that carrying something for the Heir meant I'd have form enough to run into things. Chide if you must, but I doubt you remember all we can do after fifty years of barely existing!"

Harry looked on, amused as the Slytherin and Gryffindor ghosts began to bicker in earnest, and Professor Binns began to read. Neville looked quite confused, and Harry took the time to explain, "Apparently the Headmaster can bind the ghosts, portraits, and Hogwarts herself to his rules. But any Heir of a Founder has an inheritance of extra help from Hogwarts, if they know how to call on it. I learned how yesterday."

Neville's eyes went huge. "So you are a Heir of a Founder! Who?"

"Gryffindor, apparently. Wish I'd known that second year. Would have been a hell of a lot nicer..."

"So what's up with the ghosts?"

"Well, the Founders left extra helpers for their Heirs- extra books and the like. And somehow an heir being in Hogwarts strengthens the magic of the school."

Neville's eyes grew huge. "And the heirs are to be buried here, too, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Harry, I knew you were strong, but… Wards that strengthen from the heirs leech magic off you whenever you are in the castle."

"So, the extra books and stuff might be more compensation for the drain over the school year…"

"But if you are right about this magic draining and then rebuilding stronger thing… You shouldn't need to do anything special at all!"

Harry shook his head, "No, I don't feel drained or weak like I did after we got back."

"We need more information on this, Harry. We need to know how long it takes to fully recharge your magical core. If you force a tulip, it only blooms once. If you plant it deep when it's cool, it will bloom for years."

Harry laughed, "Tulips!"

Neville smiled, "Gran just got around to sending me spring pictures of my gardens. I got some tulips that had defensive spells against deer on them, and this year she caught one attacking a deer!"

"Cool. You'll have to show me the pic."

"It's in the dorm. Gran thought I should try to get it published. Professor Sprout was so proud!"

"So was this an invention of yours?"

Neville nodded, "Most repelling spells are on garden statues and fences and the like. Means you have to respell the garden once or twice a year, not to mention the added magic draws gnomes. Well, I found a way to do the charm on the bulbs themselves, after crossing them with a magical flower from Africa."

"Wow. Sounds like you did a lot of work."

Neville smiled, "Well... it took a lot of time and many trials, but it was too interesting to call work."

"You're lucky, you know. To know what you want to do, rather than what you think you should do."

"Are you saying you don't want to be an auror?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I know I need the training an auror gets, but I have no idea what they do daily. Umbridge was there for my counseling session, and it basically ended with McGonagall and Umbridge yelling at each other."

Harry pulled his packages out of his bag, and opened them. A bunch of plushies shot out of the box, which fell to the floor as Harry ducked to avoid the stream of stuffed animals.

Neville was nearly rolling with his laughter. Harry just shook his head, and picked up the toys, piling them in his chair. When Harry opened the Dazzlers box, he stood as far from the box on the table as he good, flinching as the flaps came free. This reignited Neville's laughter. Harry simply smiled as the jewels and enchantment kits stayed in the box.

"So what do you want to do?"

Neville sighed, "I don't have the Potions scores to do what I want to do, and I'll be lucky to get an A on my OWLs… So I'll probably go for my mastery in Herbology."

"What do you want to do?"

"Develop helpful herbs and plants for healing potions."

"And you can't do that without Potions."

"Harry, without even an OWL in Potions, anything I would discover wouldn't be taken seriously. I'd have to partner with someone, and in discovery, those partnerships usually only last until the first big discovery."

Harry started rooting through the pile of books, when the room plopped the Hogwarts Charter on top for him open to the page Harry had wanted. "Read this." He handed the book to Neville. "If I read that right, we can challenge our Astronomy OWL, which would mean that we would have to retake all of our OWLs, and we could even take additional subjects."

Neville looked up when he finished reading, "They wanted it to be a disincentive, after all you'd have to be batty to want to re-sit all your OWLs or NEWTs. Do you think we could do it?"

Harry smiled, "In here we've all the time in the world, all the resources of the castle, and no Snape. We'd have to place our challenge as soon as we got out of here, but we wouldn't have to decide to take the tests until the day after we got our scores."

Neville nodded.

"The only downside is that I don't know if I brought all the ingredients for the Animagus Potion."

"What? You'd knew I'd agree?"

Harry shook his head, "Not that at all. My Father and Sirius learned how to change when they were in school, so they could be with Remus, Professor Lupin, on the full moon."

"You mean he really is a werewolf? I thought that was just the Slytherins making up stuff again." Neville had a wry smile on his face, and it took Harry a minute to realize Neville was joking.

"Sirius sent me my parent's diaries, and though I'm not done yet, in my dad's he was moaning over how much sooner they could have changed if they had known about the potion."

"So, you want us to relearn everything for the OWLs, picking up Runes and Arithmancy along the way, learn Auror level defense and wards, make a ton of Patronus Pals, and become animagii."

"How'd you…"

Neville gestured to the table, "The room has already made us schedules."

Harry picked his up. "The room suggests we take the potion at the end of the first week, and take," a beaker holder full of potions appeared on the table, "these athletic enhancing potions now."

Neville grabbed the first of his share, "It says we'll burn off all the room made material in the week. Bottoms up."

* * *

_And next time, after a long, long time in the Room of Requirement, Harry begins to challenge the system & curry some good press._


	17. Fast Forward Six Months in a Minute

Part 17 - _Fast Forward_

* * *

Harry laughed as the room put a potions lab off to one side, and a book in front of each of them. 

Neville laughed as well, "Guess it's no secret what our biggest weakness is."

Harry smiled and shook his head, pulling out a notebook and ballpoint pen from his stuff. "Remember to use your things, otherwise when we leave your notes will be gone."

Neville nodded, "I'm thinking of just erasing all the parchment I wasted taking notes in Snape's classes."

"How can he set the mark for NEWT Potions as an O anyhow? Has it always been that high? It seems odd that a class that seems to be required for so many careers would be so hard to get into."

"Wizarding society is pretty small, and for the muggleborns can be fairly dull as well. Most muggle-raised wizards tend to live like muggles, and get muggle jobs. One of the few taxes in Wizarding Society is taken every time someone converts pounds for galleons."

Harry shook his head, "Why would wizards working as muggles allow such a tax?"

Neville shrugged, "It's pretty hard to get the right to vote, and how to apply isn't even mentioned here at school really. The right to vote is maintained by magical descendents, so purebloods never have to subject themselves to the paperwork. And it takes so long, that by the time an election is announced, it's too late to have a chance at voting."

"In muggle schools there are required classes in government. Everyone is taught the basics of how things work, " Harry shook his head. "There's so much to learn."

"Well, I'm just wondering if the room will let my cauldrons blow up if I make a mistake."

They both laughed as they got down to work.

* * *

Some time later the ghosts wandered over to them. 

"Mr. Potter," Professor Binns had an excited gleam in his eye that Harry was surprised to recognize – it was the same as Hermione's before she entered a bookstore. The ghost had several open books arrayed on the floor, but had floated up to the table. "Did you, on your journey to the Chamber, happen to enter Slytherin's office?"

"Uh, no."

The ghost eagerly clapped his hands, which actually made noise now. "Is there any chance we might go there now?"

"Go to the Chamber of Secrets?" Neville paled.

The Baron joined them, "It is Professor Binns' last wish to complete a revised uncensored history of Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "And exploring what Tom Riddle might have left in the Chamber, as well as Slytherin would be a good idea. But with Dumbledore... I don't want to risk being found out, especially without getting the time we need to train."

"But you are willing to bring me down there?"

"You can't go through the sink to the Chamber?"

The Baron answered this time, "I and the other House ghosts attempted to your second year, and Professor Binns attempted today. Before we could get to the bottom of the chute. I believe the Headmaster has placed additional wards, as the Professor couldn't get past the sinks today."

"Well, when we leave the room, we can go to the Chamber if you wish."

"Yes!" Binns spun around in a circle, "Finally a way to see if the accounts are true!"

The Baron explained, "Nearly all of Slytherin's books disappeared from the library when he left the school. Some accounts say he went to live out his life as a muggle since he feared the changes the Dark Arts had wrought in him."

Neville said, "That's different than the stories I've heard..."

Binns waved his hand in dismissal, "None of that tripe was talked about until the war with Grindelwald."

After a bit more discussion, the Baron was leaving to join Sir Nicholas in attempting to control the other ghosts and portraits. Apparently the time Harry spent in the room was a bit like a high to Hogwarts, a surge of power. Professor Binns would be staying to teach the boys history and government, and work on his book.

* * *

They studied, sparred, and made Pals. Neville almost blew up a cauldron, but as they dived to take cover, the room removed his cauldron, and put his book back in front of him. At the end of the first week, after looking into the mirrors the room provided, Harry and Neville added disguise charms to their "to do" list. They downed the age prevention potion, only half of the year supply the room offered. The room then set up a calendar, which it would mark off the days for them. They each chose different tasks for their evening lessons. Harry was experimenting with his enchantment kits, while Neville dove into the rare herbology and the muggle botany books the room provided. 

At the end of the first month, Harry and Neville's potion skills had improved to the point the room had placed the Animagus Potion on their schedule. The room had created interactive workbooks that helped pinpoint the weaknesses in their education, and allowed them to see the connections they had missed. As they caught up in potions, the room added runes and arithmancy to their schedules. The boys' schedule and workbooks the room provided changed to meet their needs and some of their wants. Time apart, time together, special projects to meet each of their interests – the boys had the benefits of a highly individualized education. Binns turned out to be a great story-teller, and after dinner they would hear the history and legends of the Wizarding world.

Harry thought after the first lesson from Binns, that the Baron must have known how damaged the Professor had been by being forced for half a century to be one of the worst professors. The boys had learned quickly to throw out everything they had learned in class, not that it had been much. Being forced to teach the half-truths and outright lies that Binns had fought against for years were probably hellish for the ghost, if he had been aware enough of it. Harry wasn't sure, especially since the knowledge that an old colleague had put him in that state would be hellish enough, and he wasn't about to pry into the ghost's pain.

* * *

After six months of constant work, the room gave them practice OWLs, the written portions. They did rather well, mostly Es and Os, except for history, where Harry's answers though true to the actual facts, didn't subscribe enough to the curriculum created by the Ministry to earn him above an A. Neville, having been raised with Ministry versions most of his life, had gotten an E. Binns had not been pleased, and grabbed their tests, vowing to help them learn the citations they would need to prove their answers were true. Not surprisingly, their new subjects of runes and arithmancy had earned them low marks, but so did care of magical creatures and divination – which the room hadn't placed much time for on their schedules. 

While the mixed results on the OWLs, showed the boys they needed to do far more work, they were tiring of the constant studying and training. So they decided to have a week of 'vacation' before resuming their studies. Harry found himself opening a door to a new destination everyday. The RoR couldn't mimic people so Harry got the least crowded tour of Europe ever.

Harry marveled at the Louvre not realizing he was missing half of the experience by not looking up at the elaborately detailed ceilings, until he tripped over the casement of a doorway passing from one chamber to the next. When Harry had finished the circuit of the museum, he sat, and using the guide and book the RoR was able to create in the bookstore began writing down his impressions of the place. With no one to complain, he'd removed his shoes, and rested his aching feet on the cool marble floor, as he wrote his impressions onto parchment, using copying charms to copy images from the book and map to illustrate his comments. As he was finishing, he noticed a note that through the wall behind the statue of Winged Victory on the staircases there was a Wizarding Section.

Harry felt his energy returning – he'd felt exhausted after slogging through all the religious paintings. Harry thought he'd have to been a art major or vicar to appreciate room after room of essentially the same scenes of the Bible and multiple depictions of the Madonna. He probably should have swiped one of the audio tours, but he didn't think they would have worked. Refreshed by his curiosity, Harry went to the Wizarding Section barefoot holding onto his shoes with his left hand. However, his enthusiasm for the Wizarding Section faded quickly, though the cool marble was cool on his feet. The majority of the collection seemed to be reparoed copies of the statues, monuments, and other damaged works. The complete Winged Victory was not as beautiful as the remnants of the statue in the muggle section had led Harry to imagine. There were many moving portraits, but none of names he recognized, and the limits of the RoR meant to converse with them Harry would need to go to Paris, and use a translation charm or two. Harry was disappointed. There were no battle scene with magical creatures, no wizarding world treasures of Egypt or Asia. He couldn't believe there wasn't anything on veela, especially here on the continent, and wondered if the pure-blood craze was responsible.

The next day Harry greatly enjoyed Paris as no wizard could without getting in serious trouble with the Ministry, having the RoR give him a broom and launching off the top of the Eiffel Tower. After that, Harry's feet never got too tired before Harry took advantage of really being in the RoR, and would fly. He saw castles from their parapets to their dungeons, and the grayed out rooms that the room had no information about, when he wandered from the ones on the tour.

Neville, unlike Harry, wasn't spending his time touring the highlights of Europe. Instead, Neville was enjoying a week of gardening. Though he had taught Harry herbology and continued his own experiments and research, Neville was missing the feel of soil under his fingernails. Though he appreciated the hydro- and soil-less cultures the room provided, it wasn't the same. So Neville experienced a year of seasons and the ability to see what the gardens at his Gran's would do over time. Neville took a notebook full of notes and plans on how to change his flowerbeds to achieve near continuous secession of blooms among his perennials. He couldn't believe his Gran hadn't mentioned the early Mary and late June gaps!

Only on their last night of their 'vacation' did Harry and Neville get together and talk about their experiences. Only when Harry talked about the gardens of the castles did Neville even have a hint of a wish that he hadn't spent the week gardening. Neville had flexed his fingers and proudly shown off the redness along the calluses of his hands like battle scars.

"There's only so much the room can do, Nev. The gaps might be smaller than you think."

Neville shook his head, "Only if I have some volunteers from other beds, or I'm wrong about the latitude."

"Latitude?"

"The manor is unplottable, and I think Gran was also going to add the Fidelius to the family wing. So I had to give the room my best estimate. So maybe there is a little more daylight or shadow, but the room's right if my delphiniums are still going strong that would be a miracle. I'll just need to charm some cameras to check."

"When you get to show me the pictures of your tulips you should check to see if the delph foliage is there."

Neville nodded and pulled out his notes to add a reminder to do that. "That's a good idea, though the picture might be too far from the bed to tell."

"I do think you're lucky to be able to plan out your garden on your own. I hope I can this summer."

Neville smiled reassuringly, "There's bound to be foundation stones around Godric Hallow. During the last two wars it became unthinkable to not have a wall around the edges of the property. There was a short push in the fifties for fenceless vistas, but when they came up with training brooms most families put in a pitch. And the hiding charms needed are far stronger with a good wall to ground them."

"I know you think it is perverse to want a lawn with dandelions…"

"I never said that."

"And with crab grass…"

"That is perverse, you'll always be pulling it out of your beds."

Harry shrugged, "I want a riot in my front garden. Clashing colors, annuals mixed with perennials, with no worrying about bare spots or putting the tall plants in the back. I want multiple kinds and colors of grass in my yard, and to let mushroom rings form. I want tacky lawn ornaments and wind chimes that look like they were made by a grade-schooler. And no blasted petunias to deadhead and trim." Harry's voice grew more and more strident as he described his dream garden.

Neville clapped, and laughed.

"Ok, maybe I got a bit theatrical, and we both got some rotten deals, but I do think you're lucky to have space that is yours."

"I know, Harry. It's just that you started to sound like you were giving a campaign speech – free the lawn weeds! And if you do have foundation stones, and they have been in place for seven years like the Fidelius needs, I'll send you all the splits from my perennials that I can."

"If it works out, you can come take a look, help me find the perennials that would be too exotic for the Durselys."

* * *

The boys decided to change their training schedule for the remainder of their stay in the Room of Requirement. They reflected that taking off 'Wednesdays' and 'Sundays' were the best way of allowing themselves more time to process all they are learning and to keep from burning out. Their lessons would be changing too. The room and Binns had taught them the facts and how to analyze a situation to come up with a solution. The room's potion workbooks had become ingenious. 

Unlike Snape's class they weren't presented with the steps and ingredients of the potion, making the precise following of directions the task. No, instead the room taught them about the ingredients, and the reasons for the methods that had to be used with them. In the second month they were given incomplete instructions, at first with blank lines, then without a hint to where the potion was missing a step. The room would hide any pages of the other texts that mentioned the potion they were working on. Soon, they progressed and the room gave them incorrect instructions that they would have to change and justify. They knew why after adding a bile to a potion you had to stir counterclockwise, and how to add it to amplify or diminish other ingredients. They know knew the Table of Reactivity, and how to use it to gauge a potion.

Which all would have been for the good if they were post-NEWTs working on research. However, the standardized tests that the British Ministry required didn't only judge competence or comprehension. The tests required the taker to know the British Assigned Names. Whereas the room had been using a multitude of sources, preferably the write up of the potion developer, the Ministry of Magic in England would be using the name given by the office of English Standards. It had taken their history OWLs to bring up how isolationist the MoM was.

In contrast to the muggles, the wizards of Britain never tried to build an empire. After extricating themselves from muggle society, they were happy enough as they were, ignoring the outside world, be it muggle or foreign. Even when wizards from lands conquered by the muggle empire would come calling, they'd receive a request for a small tribute or a 'you care what the muggles do?' depending on who they first approached. The only reason the International Confederation of Wizards was formed was the muggle wars had led to wizards being found among the enemies of the muggle Britons. Discovery and documentation of German wizards risked exposure in England, as the muggles asked the inevitable question: if people with those talents are there, mustn't they also be here?

Even after the ICW's formation, the MoM maintained its office of British Standards. The sole purpose of which was to remake foreign achievements to 'British Standards'. In other words, the incantation should preferably be in English or Latin, and the name of the spell should be as well. This meant whichever English wizard submitted a foreign spell to the Ministry could easily receive credit, even if the only effort expended was to buy a foreign journal and write an owl. This meant too, that direct sales of potion and spellcrafting journals to England were prohibited by most other countries, creating a vibrant black market for those smart enough never to submit foreign work to the MoM.

For the boys, this all meant they would need to spend a lot of time on memorization. The British name and incantation or ingredients, or the whitewash given to history. Binns had begun to teach to the test, in a critical manner that analyzed why the spin was given by the MoM to each story, and how that added up in society. Though he'd only taught them once since the test, they were impressed that it still kept it interesting. Potions they had to memorize through flashcards.

* * *

When the Room of Requirement deemed them both free of any of the six months' worth of age inhibiting potion Harry and Neville had taken, they began to finish their work on two projects: the Animagus Revealer Potion and the Oblivation Revelation and Restoration Potions. Harry and Neville had been working on occulmency and legilimency from the start, and had learned the too smooth, too blank portions of their memories were signs of memory charms. Harry had expected to find something in his own mind, and had thought Neville might have been charmed after his parents were attacked. After allthe suggestions and hints by the Bloody Baron and Professor Binnsthat a potential reason Riddle had become a sociopath was Dumbledore's frequent memory charms the boys had looked for a solution. There were two, the set of potions they were going to try or mediation and time. 

The reason St. Mungo's didn't fix Lockhart with the potion was that being dosed with the potion left a toxic residue in the patient's system. A third dose, even administered twenty years later in one case, was fatal. With a patient like Lockhart, there would be no way to know he hadn't been dosed before. However, where the room couldn't help them with the supplies for the Animagus potion, here the room's supplies would make it so they would not need to worry about the residue. Since the potion removed, rather than added to their systems, there would be no backlash when leaving the room. Unlike the Animagus potion, which added to every cell of the body, and could even kill them when they left if they attempted it with the room's supplies.

After some consideration, the boys took the Revealer potion first. They were not surprised when Neville glowed violet, and Harry dark purple. They downed a glass of water, after toasting to "No more lies." After a quick bathroom break, they took the Restoration potion. It was a clumpy jelly-like concoction, that still managed to feel like they were swallowing broken glass, with hot sauce and tar. After drinking the last of the vials, Harry tried to cling to the desk, while Neville tried to sit on the floor. Before either could succeed, they had passed out.

* * *

oOOo 

_Table of Reactivity-I see this as being sort of a chart with a series of ingredients along the top and a single one along the side. Of course since there aren't only two ingredients in most potions they would have to learn how to use the table's information given the other ingredients in the potion. Like with the Chemistry and Physics handbook, learning how to use such a tool can be hard without a guide._

_Sorry for the long delay, computer problems. I do have the next section handwritten as well, and will endeavor to post sooner. :-)_


	18. One Step Forward, Any Steps Back?

__

Sorry for the delay, been having computer issues.

* * *

6

**Part 18 – _One Step Forward, Any Steps Back?_**

* * *

Harry woke with a massive headache and a growing feeling of nausea. With great effort he opened his eyes and tried to get a sip of the water from the glass the room had put in front of him. He fell back into darkness. The next time he woke his headache was gone, replaced by a horrible case of cottonmouth. He raised his head, and was surprised to see Neville was still out. Harry sat up slowly and drank some more water, before wishing off the hourglasses and standing up. He touched Neville's arm, and the other boy woke. They leaned on each other and staggered to the door, and fell through it into the hall.

"Bloody hell."

"Second that."

"Bloody hell."

Neville laughed. "Next time Seamus decides to try firewhiskey I'm making him try the room."

Harry gingerly sat up. "I am one big bruise."

"Beats the hangover effect from before though." Neville stood, and offered a hand up.

Back in the room, the boys went back to the potions area and downed another vial of revealer. Neville glowed white, while Harry was a light violet. Harry rolled his eyes, "Figures." Harry wished the hourglasses back on, and was about to drink the restorer potion when Neville stopped his hand.

"I think you should drink some water and go to the bathroom first, Harry. Or even wait a day or two."

"What?"

"Well, look." Neville pointed to the open door to Neville's bedroom. The room had ringed his bed with large dreamcatchers 2 on each side of the bed.

"I didn't know multiple dreamcatchers worked better than a single one..."

"Well, with having the larger one hanging just outside the little one, maybe the little one catches what the outer one misses."

"So if the room is expecting our next nights to be filled with nightmares, maybe I should wait a day or two for the first group to settle in."

Neville nodded, staring at the bed like it was a dementor.

hr

They didn't have long before their usual bedtime, when the memories would begin to come to the fore, and the prospect had both of the boys filled with dread. Without speaking they dove into training, hoping that physical exhaustion would ease their minds somehow. They ran, but as they hit their rhythm the dread of the nightmares to come kept eating at their minds. The room turned the track they were running into an obstacle course, and soon they were so intent on dodging curses and projectiles that they had no time to think.

They kept going, covered in sweat, running until they could run no more. Then they staggered and kept going. Finally over an hour later the room drenched them both with tepid water, and then surrounded them with jets of air. The boys finished drying themselves with a charm and stumbled to their bedrooms. As exhausted as they were, as soon as they hit their respective beds they collapsed into sleep. The room put blankets over them both.

* * *

When Harry woke up every muscle in his body was screaming with pain at the slightest move. With each breath pain lanced out from his shoulders to his neck like a stab wound. He moved his hands to push himself into a sitting position, hissing in a breath as he did so feeling like a ton of bricks had landed on him. He grabbed the pain potion and downed it thankful it had no lid, for he couldn't have removed it. As he let himself fall back flat onto the bed, he barely had time to think that falling wasn't as painful as rising before he was out again.

When he woke next he was still overly sore from the workout, but the potion had numbed the pain. He pulled himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Harry had to lean on the furniture and walls as he traveled as he became dizzy. When he made it to the bathroom, he found Neville asleep but strapped in under his arms so he couldn't fall under and drown in the large whirlpool spa. Stripping to his shorts, Harry climbed in, and was soon strapped in and asleep again.

The room woke them. Harry physically felt normal again, even though his skin felt extra sensitive and was wrinkled from the time in the spa. Harry was dying to ask Neville what he remembered, but dreading the same question in return. Instead, he like the other boy got out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and headed to his own room to get dressed.

hr

At the table, Neville still was bleary eyed as he read one of Ravenclaw's compendiums while shoveling porridge in his mouth.

Harry looked to Neville's room, and through the open door saw all the dreamcatchers were dripping a black tar. Harry's dreamcatcher hadn't even looked half as affected; his returning memories had met his expectations: wizards preventing muggle government from removing Harry from the Durselys'. "Are you alright?"

Neville looked up, and shook his head.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"You guys were right. My uncle was a monster."

It took Harry a few moments to catch the reference, Neville's uncle had put him in danger to try to spark his magic or prove him a squib. "So it was more than just the time that proved you weren't a squib?"

Neville shook his head, "He never stopped. Anytime I was alone with him… Did you know I'm not clumsy at home? Never broke my arm tripping over my own feet, never broke my leg sliding down the banister…" Neville stared at the far wall.

"I'm sorry."

Neville shook himself, and pointed at Ravenclaw's book. "I kept waking up last night. So I asked the room to give me all the research done on animagus forms. Turns out rumors of the Founders having magical forms were, for once, understated."

"What?"

"According to Ravenclaw, Helga and Godric were experimenting with becoming animagii, and accidentally discovered how to obtain multiple forms. Apparently if you take the potion assume the form only once, and then take the potion again, you can obtain multiple forms. Ravenclaw apparently obtained seven forms once the other two told her, each smaller than the last."

"What was her smallest form?"

"A dragonfly. But I think they neglected another aspect, apparently she did them all in one afternoon right after another."

"So the size factor might be a sign of magical energy."

"And it looks like they didn't let the potion age."

Harry moaned, "There was only one article that mentioned allowing the Animagus Potion to cure would improve the outcome, and the author himself said there was no firm way to judge."

"All the other potions in that class are more effective after aging."

"Pity the room doesn't have any foreign potions journals for us to check out."

Neville replied, "Even if Snape did have any, he'd probably have them locked up too tight for the room to get at."

Harry sighed, "From the little the room & Binns know about the information blackout, Snape probably would be blackballed from most sources just from having his own potions registered here."

"Who'd have figured he was the one to make the last two imperius detection potions."

Harry shrugged, "Figures that the Ministry'd question the effectiveness since he had a black mark. I wondered how it could be an Unforgivable if there was no independent way to prove it happened. Besides imperius detection makes more sense than what Hermione thought he'd got his mastery for…"

"What?"

"She thought it was Wolfsbane. Didn't listen when I said he wouldn't have unmasked Lupin if he was using him as a guinea pig."

Neville shrugged, "I think he'd be more likely to, if Snape was done with him. No credit sharing that way, ."

They calculated how much potion they could make given the remains of their potions kits, and discovered it was only ten doses worth if they didn't discard the withered edges, eight if they did. They decided for Harry to take the Restorer Potion and to brew and let cure the Animagus Potion. Each of the boys wanted the chance to have multiple forms, and knew they'd be too impatient to hold themselves to a single transformation to each form.

Harry started laughing. "Could you imagine Snape's face if he heard us talking about potions?"

Neville smiled, "His head would explode."

ooOOOoo

It was with a growing sense of anxiety that Harry bolted down the second Restorer Potion. He clasped his hands over his mouth as his butterflies turned to outright nausea after consuming the potion. Harry clenched his eyes shut, and tried to concentrate on his breathing without reaching a meditative state. As Harry's head began to throb hotly with pain, he had enough time to decide that passing out quickly last time had been a blessing, before the darkness finally took him.

ooOOOoo

When Harry woke, he was surprised that Neville was no where to be seen. Quickly Harry did a tempus, and was shocked to discover that it had been over four hours since he had taken the potion. He sat up woozily and with one hand bracing him up, slowly reached for and sipped the glass of water the room provided. Though his head seemed to throb with every thought, Harry couldn't help but wonder what made this second experience with the potion worse. Could it have been just that it had cured longer? Was it an overdose, with not having much repressed? Or did fate or whatever just hate him. Setting down his glass, Harry collapsed back down onto the floor clutching his head. Fate just hated him.

ooOOOoo

When Harry next woke, his head no longer felt like a kettle drum. He sat up, his muscles protesting from lying on the floor and staggered to the bathroom. When he got out a sweating, dirt covered Neville greeted him.

"I had the room get me when you woke up again. Did you need help going out?" Neville then looked down at his dirt caked pants, and waved his hand, only to get partial results from the wandless cleaning charm he'd tried.

Harry sagged a bit more against the frame of the door. They'd known that the gains in wandless magic they'd made would be set back as much as their occulmency. But seeing Neville have trouble with the first wandless charm the other boy had mastered made Harry fear that they might have far more troubles than they had thought they would.

Neville repeated the charm, slipped past Harry to wash his hands, then helped Harry to the door. After Harry remembered to wish off the hourglasses, the door opened. Unlike last time, Neville wasn't affected by leaving the room, so was able to catch Harry's suddenly dead weight as he passed out again crossing the threshold. But like last time Harry quickly recovered, and Neville brought him back in the room as soon as Harry regained his footing.

The room had made a couch right by the door; after helping Harry sit, Neville sat himself on the other end. "Harry? Don't forget to turn the hourglasses back on."

With a shrug, Harry complied. They both sat, staring off into space for a long time. Neville finally noticed Harry's breathing was becoming audibly raspy. Looking over at his friend, Neville saw a few tears had begun to leak from Harry's eyes. "Did you want to tell me?"

Harry took a deep breath. "The ones I just got back are actually back, and I would love more to come after dreaming tonight. He took my memories of my family." Harry took a drink of water from the glass the room suddenly gave him. "I'd thought it was because I was so young. Muggles, at least, usually don't remember anything before they're toddlers."

"Wizards do. That's why the Rites of Introduction are so elaborate, after all why have a ceremony for naming godparents if the child won't remember it?"

"So you remember yours?"

Neville sighed, "Ours you mean. Not until last night. It was one of the few things Dumbledore did to me instead of my uncle."

Harry smiled and bumped his shoulder into his friend's, "And do you still have the toy quidditch men?"

Neville laughed. "I had thought that was just a dream from a quidditch match I'd been to or something. Imagine how different things might have been if my Gran had only seen us fly the men around my room."

"Your dad was so proud. Though I'm not sure which of us had the men that crashed into my dad."

Neville stood up abruptly. "My dad… Wouldn't he have bragged to his mom?" Neville turned to face Harry. "Could my Gran have been oblivated too?"

"Maybe." Harry shrugged, "I don't really have a sense of time for those memories, they're just sort of jumbled up. It might have been in October."

Neville sat back down. "I had wondered who my godmother was."

Harry laughed, "I hadn't. Sorta stupid. I mean, my mom had to have friends, especially since they weren't supposed to have got on so well when they were younger." Harry bumped into his friend's shoulder again, "I'm glad our moms were friends. Makes me wonder though, why she wasn't listed as a possible guardian in my parents' will."

Neville sighed, "She might have been, but that part of a will would be set to automatically update. If it was first read after… then it would be frozen without my parents as possible guardians."

"Sorry, I didn't realize… Would it have removed people who tried to kill me?"

"Anyone who intended you serious physical harm at the time of the reading."

"Dumbledore knew."

Neville turned and looked sharply at Harry. "What?"

"If Sirius had betrayed us, he couldn't have been listed as a guardian."

"We need to find a truth potion that works on Occulmens, Harry. And a way to make the revealing potion nontoxic."

"Damn him."

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Needed to get this part out as it kept changing on me._


	19. The Headmaster's Roll Book

Part 19 - The Headmaster's Roll Book

* * *

Despite the harm Dumbledore had done to the professor with his former bindings on the ghosts, Binns cautioned the boys about making assumptions especially when they were uncertain of the timeline. "Without proof, without evidence, there is no way to tell if you have a correct history or complete fiction." Though he agreed that the boys' memories of innocent times being hidden or changed was damning, Binns suggested Harry ask a lawyer about the custody papers.

Only the knowledge of how the ghost had been constrained by Dumbledore for half a century kept the boys from arguing the point. Harry did begin to assemble a time-line, and list of questions that needed to be answered. Neville began looking for safer alternatives at least for the revealing half of the portion, as well as some method to tell if someone had consumed the potion duo before. Even if it was the Room of Requirement, the toxicity could kill Mrs. Longbottom nearly instantly, and death wasn't something leaving the Room could cure.

"The easiest way to do this would be to owl a hospital in France." Neville declared after looking through his third book.

Harry set down his quill and stretched. "You wouldn't think it would be too hard to do, after all muggle doctors find out all kinds of stuff with blood and urine samples. Since it's an accumulation, it should be present somewhere."

It took a minute for Harry to realize that Neville was staring at him in shock.

"Neville?"

"Muggle doctors take samples?"

"Yeah. Even the animal doctors make you bring a stool sample to be checked out. Vernon's bloody sister is always stopping by before she goes, so I can collect it for her. Even though she lives more than an hour away."

Neville shook his head. "Wizarding doctors don't take samples."

"Probably a way they can test it without taking it then."

Neville still looked stunned. "Taking a sample would be very taboo. Back in the Dark Ages dark wizards would often con muggles into giving up their blood for dark rituals by getting them to use leeches. It's forbidden by the healer's oath to take blood from the body."

Harry shook his head. So in other words, this buildup might be able to be detected by something as simple as a urine test."

"No wonder there are no muggleborn healers at St. Mungo's."

"What?"

Neville sighed, "Gran tried to get muggleborn healers for my parents. She thinks they might be in danger from Death Eaters, so every few years Gran makes a big stink about wanting a muggleborn nurse at least."

"Neville, I think we need to write the French hospital for more than a detection potion."

"What.. No." Neville shoved himself up from the table and began pacing.

The room popped a bunch of books near Harry, seeing the first was a travel book for Wizarding France, he began looking in it for hospital information. Harry began with the medical emergencies section then went to the educational, and then the wizard or miracle section. He soon had a list of 23 places that might be good sources for medical expertise.

Neville soon returned to the table. "What do you have?"

"Some addresses. But given the information blackout, I don't know if they are even allowed to tell us if they have a cure. There might be a muggle treatment that might help as well, but I don't know enough about that to judge."

"Someone would have mentioned something, right? If my parents could have been cured… Someone would have mentioned they should be taken to France or America if there is a cure…"

Harry remained silent, just placing the list of French places near Neville, and began on the German.

oOOOo

It took a while for Harry to convince Neville that they couldn't go mail the letters immediately. They still had 'six months' of studying to do, and their research in the room could only help whatever the answers from the foreign doctors Neville had selected to write to may be. The room had aided Harry in this creating an out box by the door. Harry put the Pals he had created to give away on the table, along with some of their shopping lists. Neville had put his first five requests for information, he had decided to first write to wizarding medical schools, and to the wizarding hospital at Lourdes. Apparently, miracles occurred to wizards there too, though some thought it an intense site of accidental magic. And there was a larger than normal contingent of aurors stationed there, according to the guidebook, to keep skeptical wizards from playing with muggles.

The boys continued their studies. Workouts in the morning and evening were interspersed with bursts of discussion about their returned memories. Their studies of mind magic were derailed for a couple weeks, until the room began making each of them write journal entries each night, hijacking their pillows until they wrote something. For this the boys were glad to use the room's supplies, as they wanted no physical record. Talking with each other or Binns was just too hard.

Months passed, and though the boys had put weekends of leisure into their schedules they accomplished more than before.

After five months the room once again prepared practice OWLs and this time the boys topped every subject. Though Harry found himself wondering if their History OWLs would really have come out as well with a Ministry grader. They both had used all the allotted time, with all the citations they had added for their answers. They then started on NEWT level work that was commonly used as bonus material for the OWLs.

ooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo

Six months came to a close. The room removed all the things that they couldn't bring out of the room with them, making it quite simple for the boys to pack their belongings. Preparing their mail was another matter. They had decided, to package all the Pals, and mail them as soon as they left the room, along with the other things they needed to mail. Neville plucked out the frog and cat Pals he'd chosen and made for his parents from the pile, as Harry pulled out the rabbit that he had made a near twin to the one his Aunt kept in her room.

Given all the manipulations he'd been subjected to, Harry had grudgingly agreed with Neville that his Aunt might be under some negative influence. Harry had agreed to see if Hedwig could slip in the Pal unnoticed. If she succeeded, the worst that could happen would be that his relatives were the same as always. Harry charmed the Pal with a compulsion spell, to put it in a cupboard if anyone tried to bin it. Neville charmed the boxes and collars of the Pals for his parents with compulsion charms for them to be delivered to his parents right away.

Harry had sacrificed more ragged clothing to make boxes for the Pals. They thought having the Pal burst out of the box would be enjoyable for the kids, so the Pals had to be scrunched up a bit to fit. However, when the Room finally provided them with the source for their mailing list, the joy at packing presents vanished quickly.

Harry had pulled out parchment and paper, to write address labels with, and keep a list of who got a Pal. The book had been provided open to the key page of the book. One look from the color key to the black list of names told Harry that even this wasn't going to be easy. "Damn."

"What now?"

"Professor!"

The ghost glided over, from his writing desk, "Yes?"

"When do professors get to see the Rolls Book?"

"Never. It is one of the most prized secrets of Hogwarts, few Headmasters have been known to even share it with their Deputies. This Headmaster certainly has not."

"The Room has…"

"What has Dumbledore done, Harry?"

"Either all the infants born…" Harry flipped through the rolls, finally finding their own class. "There are only 40 some in our class right?"

"Yeah."

"There are twice that many names in here, and they are all black. And the key says that that means pureblood."

"What?"

"There are any number of charms that change ink color," Professor Binns added.

Harry flipped to the front of the book, followed his finger down the index page, then flipped to the back of the book. "Supposed to be an index of alterations…."

Neville resumed copying the letter that was to accompany the Pal, this time addressed to the guardian, with a compulsion to give the toy to the child. These they would be using for the older muggleborns, since they thought it less likely for parents to give their sons plushies.

"Damn him." Harry pulled out his wand and cast a simple finite. "The Founders put in a color key, as a measure to help prevent child abuse, and Albus Dumb-as-a-door destroyed it, because he objected to their color scheme."

"What?"

Binns sped to his desk, writing furiously.

"All children in orphanages or non-family homes were to glow orange, all muggleborns brown, half-bloods green, and purebloods black." Harry turned the page, "All children who are being neglected or abused are to glow red. When at Hogwarts, children are to be gray, unless in danger, then purple."

Harry flipped to the page where the members of their class were. "Bloody Hell!" Harry nearly dropped the book.

"What?"

"Half are gray, but Neville…" Harry turned the book to show his friend, "The rest are orange and red."

Professor Binns took the book and quickly discovered where the addressing spells where. Neville cast a variation, that gave them a list of all the Red names, with their address, guardians, name of parents and whether alive, and whether they were receiving any wizarding education, and then the same for the orange, and finally brown. Over the next few hours, Binns read the book, while the boys soon came up with a list of the worst orphanages and foster homes in Britain.

They then began packaging Pals for the red names, all were to state homes or muggle homes, so they placed strong compulsion charms on the letters. The orange names they prioritized for the young in muggle housing, then the older, and ran out before they reached the end of second year.

"It ends with our year again, Harry."

"The orange list?"

"Both the red and the orange. The browns seem to end with school age. And all the names on the red and oranges have at least one Wizarding parent, usually not the guardian."

"I believe I can clarify this, Mr. Longbottom," Binns interrupted. "The book eliminates all that do not attend from the rolls after age 16, which I can only speculate ties in with the OWLs provision."

"So they are legally deemed squibs and are no longer candidates for Hogwarts."

"And possibly that is why they are no longer listed, as I have not discovered any facility to discover, even for statistical purposes the historical number of students not enrolled in any magical school. Enrollment in another school or an apprenticeship without attending Hogwarts would remove the child from the rolls as well."

"May I see the book, Professor?" Neville asked.

At the ghost's nod, Neville recast the ink color spell Dumbledore had logged using, then cast the brown only addressing spell. As the third name came up, still skipping the same members of the age group as before, he ended the spell. "There are no muggleborns that are not in a wizarding school."

"Malfoy was right. Dumbledore is destroying the purebloods."

"Harry."

"Not only the purebloods, Mr. Potter."

Harry grabbed the list of orange names, shuffling to their class. "Deatheater fathers with muggle mothers, probably rapes, only about seven names. The rest of these... one pureblood parent at least, both deceased, orphans." Harry flipped to the next class, "Mostly muggle mothers, and muggleborn fathers actually, with only muggle guardians."

"From reading the Roll Book, it seems that the only real pattern is that only muggleborns have a hundred percent response rate. The current Headmaster notes deeming this important enough to the safety of students to use the strictures used during the Burning Times. Though no headmaster had used them since 1870."

Neville said, "And Squibs are such for two generations before being deemed muggles."

"What happens to the money?" Harry asked.

The other two swiveled to look at Harry. He raised his hands, "Yeah, I know, maybe he's just shy of orphans since Riddle. But since we have no way to know how long he hasn't looked for the other colors beyond the first letter.. And he has taken money from my accounts…"

"That is something I will research, Mr. Potter. Before 1940, the accounts would simply be held in trust until a descendent proved worthy. The Wizengamot may have changed the law. As they did the status of squibs."

"Well, you coming up with that, Harry, makes me think my thinking he might just want more muggleborns because they know the least about the wider society, wasn't as cynical as I could have gone. Thanks."

"Always glad to let you be the optimist, Nev." Harry gathered up the lists. "Professor, I think you need to add a story on the book to the ones for the Quibbler."

"I need only interview the past Headmasters' portraits. I do find it highly unlikely that none of them advised the current one as to the function of the colors."

"Harry, are you still up to leaving now? Or do you want to spend another night?" Neville asked. "Either way, we should add to the Pals materials order."

"One last nap here I think. I think we should also send complaint letters to the Child Welfare officials to check out the kids in red."

"Shouldn't we try to get rid of Dumbledore?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair, "Even if the Professor here, finds out that he did know about the reds and oranges, I think everything you said before still applies." Harry raised a hand to stall Neville's protests. "There are still too many deatheaters in the Ministry. We'd likely get someone worse than Umbridge. And this is going to be hard to prove as a deliberate act, even if the portraits testify."

"I know. But if what is happening to some of these kids is worse than what happened to us..."

"We'll write muggle authorities, charm the letters to make them take them seriously. We can copy the list and charms and tell Professor Flitwick and Madam Bones. They should be able to offer them the chance to be wizards again."

"And see if we can send them to school in America."

Harry looked surprised.

"Hey, we both know they'll learn more and be safer anywhere but Britain, and in America they speak English."

Harry laughed, "You've never watched television. They speak American: elevators, cars, and all. I wonder how muggles and wizards get along there though..."

"Well, I actually went to Salem when I was ten..."

* * *

_And next time, they will actually make it out of the Room of Requirement!_


	20. The Elf Situation

**Part 20 _The Elf Situation_  
**

* * *

As the boys prepared to leave the room the next morning, Harry suddenly spoke to the room, "Is there anything else that you want us to know right now?"

Neville and Harry waited for something to appear, then started to laugh when nothing did.

Professor Binns, however, gave the boys an uncharacteristically stern look, that it took the boys a bit to register.

"Hey, yesterday we were all psyched to mail our mail, and then finally bring you to the Chamber, and when we ask for addresses we discovered that the Headmaster has been ignoring magical orphans of Wizards for who knows how long…"

"Professor, is there any way that could benefit him, really?" Neville asked. "It's not like he's helping muggleborns apply for voting rights, or educating them about the government. So he's really just decreasing the number of voters."

"The man who is the Headmaster today, is not the man I called friend. If there is reason and purpose to all these actions – hording the knowledge of the founders for fifty years, weakening the wards, stealing money from a child, leaving children in abusive homes… It is like playing chess on a set formed from sand, and expecting the pieces to endure past the next wave, nonsense. But could it be burning down the village, to cover one murder, or cutting down a tree to retrieve a kite?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Could he have intentionally set up Snape so I would fail at the Mind Arts – and maybe not have discovered that it is the key to wandless magic? Either way I failed to learn, Sirius died, and I was weaker. We can't let him find out anything, even if he doesn't intend to sabotage – he sabotages. So we go around him, and avoid him by using the rules and laws he was supposed to uphold in the public light he shrinks from."

"Yes, yes, don't be alone with any of them... Now if we're going let's go before my arms fall off."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the one bag that Neville carried, that had a featherlight charm on it.

Harry thought off the hourglasses, and with a bit of a tug at the doorway they were back to the Hogwarts evening they'd started a Room-year ago. Using the Marauder's Map, they'd confirmed Dobby was waiting on Harry down the hall from the Room, making using the invisibility cloak a moot point. Instead the boys headed straight to the Owlery, and proceeded to attach packages to owls. Hedwig got the letters to Harry's attorney and Madam Bones. (Professor Binns took the direct route to the Chamber, through the floors to wait in Myrtle's bathroom.) They grouped them by region and sent all the owls with letters, a few seconds before letting the owls with packages go. Quickly Harry performed the signal charm that told the remaining owls the Owlery was about to be cleaned, and with a few glares, the remaining owls left.

Dusk was the natural time for the owls to venture out, but the boys were a good half-hour before the time the owls would routinely be driven out by the elf assigned to clean the tower. While they'd debated sending everything in the morning, to arrive at a more natural time for muggles, it was far easier for them to be caught sending. Well, if anyone was paying attention to the Owlery. Wandlessly the boys performed the charms the elves would have, hesitantly at first, but more strongly as they noted their spells did work as practiced.

Then Neville took Harry's wand and removed their magical signatures from coming to the room, and checked off the elf log for the nightly cleaning.

However, they still had the problem of Dobby, who they confirmed with a quick check of the map, was waiting for them at the base of the stairs to the Owlery. The boys headed to the kitchen, keeping the map out as if looking for teachers, but really checking to see if their tail stayed stuck.

"Is Dobby here?" Harry asked the first elf they encountered.

Neville bit back a laugh at seeing the elf in question's eyes go huge from behind them – in the reflection of a pot.

Dobby quickly popped in front of Harry. "Harry Potter asked for Dobby?" The elf looked nervous but expectant, the multitude of hats he wore wobbling.

"Dobby, are you happy working for Dumbledore?"

The elf looked down at the question, scuffing the floor with his feet. "Dobby thought he felt… Dobby thought Harry Potter might ask a different question of Dobby." The elf looked up hopefully.

"Dobby, I would like to have you work for me, if that would make you happy." The elf lunged forward to hug Harry's legs. "I need you to tell me what you need and want though."

"Master Harry Potter is the best of wizards," came the muffled reply.

Neville lost it and started silently laughing, Harry glared at him, before patting Dobby on the shoulder. "Okay, Dobby? I need you to tell me what you need."

The elf pulled back wiping tears of joy. "Master Harry Potter is so great he cares what lowly Dobby needs."

"Yes, Dobby, I need you to tell me what you need or want. I still don't know much about being a wizard – I need your help. Like how much you want to be paid, and…"

The elf started bouncing, "Dobby no wanting pay. Dobby wanting to be bound to Master Harry Potter. Dobby needs to be able to hold his master's secrets."

"But, Dobby… You were so happy at being free…"

"A free elf is strong, but not as strong like with good wizard. Dobby would know what is needed, and what not safe. Dobby could not tell secrets Master wants kept even with potion."

"But will you be happy?"

The elf nodded solemnly. "Dobby hoping Harry Potter need elves. Dobby staying at Hogwarts hoping Harry Potter would ask Dobby."

Harry nodded slowly, "I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier, Dobby. I thought you could tell me anything."

"If Master wants Dobby to tell Master Harry Potter what Dobby needs, Dobby will."

"Dobby, I need more than that. I need to know what you think, what you want. I need you to still be a friend. I need you to be happy, and to be able to call me Harry if you want."

"Master Harry Potter is so kind, so wise. Dobby was right. Dobby knew Harry Potter would be best wizard ever."

Neville cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Dobby, how do we do this binding you talked about?"

The elf popped out and back with a large book and set it on the table. With a gesture, it was opened to the section on bindings. Harry read the section and was pleasantly surprised to find it was far less restrictive than what the books in the Room of Requirement suggested. "There's one problem here, Dobby, I'm not at home. Can you be made to tell my secrets until I can go home?"

What looked to be the head kitchen elf came forward. "Heir, the two who have been employed have been forced to do things Hogwarts elves never would. Dobby needs to take you home – or have you bind him to Hogwarts."

"What about Winky?"

The elves looked down, and Dobby responded after a short while, "Winky was enslaved."

"What?"

Dobby began tearing up and so the head elf answered, "Winky was bound to be forced to serve."

"Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore enslaved Winky to Professor Snape, Heir."

Harry shook his head, "Why?"

Dobby blurted out, "Winky was pregnant, sir. But when she was bound he didn't give her permission…"

Harry laid a comforting hand on Dobby's shoulder, and asked the head elf, "What's your name?"

"I am Gryffie, Heir."

"Gryffie, is there anything you need me to do?"

"Not now, Heir. The Founders gave us many protections and advantages by binding us to the Castle not the wizards."

Harry nodded and Gryffie popped away.

"Dobby, do you need me to see if Wonky could be freed?"

"Dobby need to bind first."

"Do you know where the Potter ancestral home is?"

Dobby nodded.

Harry picked up the book, "Can you take us there, then?"

Dobby grabbed Harry and Neville's hands and popped.

The next instant they were in front of imposing iron gates that were attached to fieldstone walls. But remarkable thing was that the sun was only about to set. Harry and Neville exchanged a glance, "Dobby?"

"Harry Potter must touch his blood to the crest for us to enter."

Harry turned his attention to the gates, sensing Dobby wouldn't answer on how they happened to move back in time. The crest was simple, a down-thrust sword in front of a shield, in the same matte black as the rest of the gates. Harry touched his middle finger to the point of the sword, and touched the resultant blood to the shield. The crest gave off a blue glow, and the gates opened.

Harry took in the grounds with awe. Where he had expected overgrown, untended lawns were manicured gardens, clipped hedges, and whimsical topiaries. A look at Neville's face told Harry his friend was cataloging all the plants. There was no haze to the landscape, so it couldn't have been a stasis spell, especially since the flowers that were blooming were in the correct season. His wonderings were answered when the main doors of the manor house were opened by a taller than average house elf.

"Master Harry, let me be the first to welcome you home." The elf gave a flourished bow, waving them inside.

Harry blinked in surprise, for even Gryffie had displayed some of the same hyper physical mannerisms as Dobby. This elf, however, was wearing a black suit with tie, and was most like a human butler in a movie. "Thank you. And you are?"

"I am Worth, sir. I have been Head Elf of Potter Mansion for forty years." Worth closed the door behind them and began to walk, when he looked back and saw he wasn't being followed added, "Please follow me to the study, sir. I'm sure you would be most comfortable there."

Harry didn't take the time to admire his surroundings, "Worth, have any wizards been here since my parents died?"

Worth stopped in front of a set of mahogany double doors, and opened them. "I am afraid, sir, that we allowed Albus Dumbledore entry November 2, 1981. He left with more than the usual lot of books and none of the food we had prepared. While your mother was a fine cook, Master James was not, and we would prepare meals for his turns in the kitchen. Mistress Lily allowed him to think she was deceived, because she loved Emme's lemon curd tart. Of course, we immediately checked the family tapestry, only to discover it had been recently vandalized."

The boys moved into the study, sitting down on the two red couches in the center of the room. Worth snapped his fingers and a tray with what looked to be a lemon tart and tea appeared on the coffee table between the couches. "We then conferred with your grandparents' portrait, and ordered the Prophet. Upon learning of your parents' deaths we sealed the properties, and awaited you."

"Why didn't you come get me? Or…" Harry trailed off, knowing there was no way house elves would ever be entrusted to raise any orphan.

Worth bowed his head, "Even with the address we couldn't get near enough to the house to touch you. Only when you were left outside could we come near. But the squib saw us, and then we couldn't even get within sight."

Dobby interrupted, "But that dark. Dumbledore not to use magic like nasty Malfoys."

Neville and Harry shared a look, and Neville gestured to his wrist. With an apologetic look to Worth, Harry avoided that topic, "Worth, Dobby here wishes to be bound as my elf. Is there a special room or ritual that the Potters use?"

oOOOo

Dobby was installed at Potter Mansion and was soon sleeping in the elves' quarters, as the magic from the ritual had begun to transform the elf's body. Worth had ushered the boys back to Hogwarts, after a tour of the house that didn't approach any portraits, as Worth noted there were too many portraits that had counterparts in Hogwarts that were only family friends. The boys were informed when they were dropped off in the kitchens, that it was only five minutes had past since they departed.

As they discussed while on the brief tour, Harry and Neville separated as soon as they got back. The flaxen-haired boy going to Myrtle's bathroom, with Harry's wand in his pocket, as Harry went somewhere far more dangerous under the cover of his invisibility cloak.

oOOOo

The dungeon hallways were far too cool for comfort, which meant the corridors on the way to the potion master's offices were devoid of life. Harry removed his cloak, around the corner from the door, stuffing it into the deepest part of his bag, before using his wandless magic to shrink the bag so it would fit into his pocket.

Moving quickly, Harry rapped firmly on the door. The Potion Master opened the door some minutes later, opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again just as swiftly, ushering in the student instead. Harry pointedly looked at the gargoyles in the room. Snape's eyes widened, but he quickly led Harry into a study with no paintings or carvings and cast several locking and silencing charms. Harry grabbed his sleeve, hoping the professor would think his wand was thus concealed and added a scrambling charm.

"So Mr. Potter, you have finally learned how the Headmaster knows everything."

"Sir, I apologize. I am late for a prior appointment, and I am neither a Slytherin nor have a desire to enter politics. Blunt and to the point, do you know that Winky the house elf was bound to you?"

Snape's eyebrows raised fractionally, "The headmaster had asked me, and I had agreed to…"

"Sir, I hate to ask such a personal question, but do you live here year-round?"

"No."

"Winky, while previously having a weakness for butterbeer was pregnant to another free elf. She was bound forcibly to you by the Headmaster, here. With no permission to continue the pregnancy, she has probably already lost it."

Snape paled a bit, but said, "And what do you wish to do about it now, Potter."

"I suggest and request that you free her so she may take service where her mate has fled."

"Dobby. The elf you freed from the Malfoys, Dobby, has fled the castle?" Snape demanded.

"He was quite distraught at the loss, sir."

"Damn it boy! Tell me has he sought shelter from you, or shall my next summons be my last?"

Harry continued on in the same even tone, "Sir, there is no danger of that. I just want to get them back together, unless I'm wrong and you knew."

Snape exploded, "It is repugnant to even suggest I might be that cruel. Not to mention all the healing potions since he did this are now poison. Winky!" Snape snapped his fingers.

Winky looked worse than Harry had ever seen her, though she was silent and not weeping. Snape looked at the elf, "I give you permission, and I wish to free you to seek your mate."

The elf began to silently cry, but accepted the cloth Snape offered her.

Harry snapped his fingers, "Worth." When the elf appeared, Harry had to hide his surprise. "Worth, Professor Snape had given his permission and offered Winky freedom. Help her and Dobby all you can. If you need me, come get me."

The larger elf embraced the smaller and they disappeared.

"Damn Dumbledore."

"Sir?"

"If I had finished this batch of potions and sent them on, I could be facing charges, Potter."

"Sir, this lies completely on him. He didn't ask Winky, he didn't ask you, he never asks." Harry shook his head, "Sir, before I go… What did the Headmaster tell you about me for occulmency lessons?"

"That you needed to learn to block visions from your curse scar." Snape's face gave no hint of his thoughts.

"Sir, is there any way my total failure could help the.. Old Crowd?"

Snape pinned Harry with a calculating glare, "No. It's fortunate that when you were possessed the Dark Lord had the Headmaster as a distraction. He could have killed you, taken all your knowledge, or turned you into a drooling idiot."

"Then the prophecy must be false, or Dumbledore is completely mental. Not that it matters much, since Voldemort believes it to be true…" Harry muttered.

"Do not speak his name!" hissed Snape.

"Why, sir?"

"What?"

"Why, shouldn't I say his name around you? Does it cause you pain?"

"No. It signals him. The mark is also used to request audience, and raising his attention so recklessly is foolhardy."

"Why do you work with Dumbledore, sir?" With him saying the name all the time, at Headquarters… Assigning you to teach me when I couldn't keep him out… He's endangering.." Harry stopped, and stood up straighter, "I'm sorry, sir. That's none of my business. I originally was going to ask you for recommendations for summer reading. If you could tell me some books that might help me, sir, I would be grateful." Harry felt a niggling bit of fear that Snape would think he was mocking him, with all the sirs he'd been using.

Snape silently studied Harry for a bit before giving a curt nod. "See me before the leaving feast, Potter. If you are truly starting to see the real world, I must endeavor to help you with this enterprise."

Harry nodded in acceptance, "Thank you, sir."

* * *

_Thank you for reading. And, yes, I do feel Dumbledore has made a mockery of being a Headmaster. If he was at a public school, they'd be sued so fast it's not funny. _


	21. Down the Rabbit's Hole

**_Part 21_** - **_Down the Rabbit's Hole_**

* * *

By the time Harry joined Neville and Professor Binns in Myrtle's bathroom, Neville had already worked up a sweat. Distracting the younger ghost, while confusing and moving the wards that had placed on the sinks was far more work than he had expected. Neville was kneeling on the bathroom floor checking for more spells around the base of the sinks, when Harry entered, and nearly tripped over him.

"Mr. Longbottom has found quite a few spells and wards based on detecting motion and parseltongue." Neville kept up a steady whispered chant, and Harry made sure to stay out of the way.

With a bit of a flourish, Neville gestured with Harry's wand to the first toilet stall. Harry could see a purple glow splash over to the stall, and was reminded of the 'non-staining' slime Dudley had gotten as a gift, and the repainting job Harry was given after Dudley had stained the living room ceiling.

"I've moved most of it to the first toilet," Neville said, "And I've silenceoed the stall. Those were motion detections, like most of them, but there was a language detection ward – maybe for parseltongue."

"Good thing you checked. With everything else he's done, I really expected the Chamber to be left unguarded."

"Might as well be if this is where his spells are. There must be a place on the first floor or dungeons that could be reached by breaching the tunnel."

"I believe the best strategy would be to destroy the Castle at its foundation," Professor Binns said. "However, since Mr. Riddle has seemed obsessed with taking over we have been lucky. The Headmaster should have brought you back down to the Chamber, Harry, and made sure that it was sealed."

Harry quipped, "At least both of them being deranged has helped the students somehow."

Neville shot a glare at Harry, "Not funny."

"It is proof that neither Mr. Riddle nor the Headmaster has learned from history," the ghost smiled, "Or Greek literature, else they would have known of the danger of hubris."

Neville shuddered, "Just so we don't have Oedipus."

"That's the guy that married his mom, and went nuts, right? Since I'm under the prophecy, make sure you check out my future wife for me."

Neville shuddered again, and handed Harry back his wand. "Your turn."

Harry cast a sequence of magic detecting spells, at lower strengths so that the ambient magic of Hogwarts wouldn't blind him like the first time he'd tried the spell in the Room of Requirement. The bathroom stall was nearly white with magic, the snake tap was an orange color, his wand and their bags were in tones of blue as were the ghosts, but there were no other bright spots of higher magic concentration. To be safe, after double checking the base of the sinks, Harry put a silencing charm into each corner of the room, and a trip ward on the bathroom door that would cause his wand to vibrate. He then pulled out the Marauder's Map again.

"They aren't even here."

"What, Harry?"

Harry shook the map for emphasis, "McGonagall and Dumbledore aren't in Hogwarts, that the map can see." Harry looked up, "You know, I don't know if I should be happy they aren't about to swoop into here, or worried as to what they are doing."

Neville choked out a laugh. "Ugh. I need that image obliviated."

"Ick, Neville. I was thinking more like raiding orphan money to buy socks."

Neville groaned.

Harry raised a hand, "Not asking."

"Gentlemen."

"Yeah, Harry, we're on real time now, worry about McGonagall and Dumbledore's sins later."

Harry glared at Neville, with laughter in his eyes, "Yesterday out here, you'd have never had said that."

Neville snorted, "No, I'd **_say_** nothing, because Hermione would be about to launch into you and Ron for the conversation."

Harry laughed, then added a notice me not and silenceo to the bathroom door as well. He then gazed at the snake faucet '**_Open up, please.'_**

Harry moved forward to just jump down the chute, when Neville restrained him with a hand in front of Harry's chest. "Wait. Give me your wand."

Harry complied and Neville tested the slide for additional spells, no signs were found. He then sent a series of cleaning spells down the chute, followed by a stream of water and a drying spell, before handing Harry back his wand. "Now you may go."

Harry stuck his wand in his sleeve pocket and jumped, nearly hitting his head when his butt landed on the slide. When the tunnel light began to change from black to gray, Harry tried to slow himself with his feet, and was thus able to hop off rather than land on the animal bones that still covered the base of the landing.

"Lumos." When Harry located the torches he lit them with a wandless spell. Extinguishing the light from his wand, Harry then proceeded to banish all the animal bones to the left side of the circular room, and placed cushioning charms on the floor beneath the chute. Soon enough Harry's book bag came down the chute, a rope they'd transfigured the day before in the room attached to the top strap. Harry quickly untied the rope, pulled it taut, and stuck it to the top left side of the chute with a weak sticking charm, that was supposed to work along the length of an object, though Harry still wondered if it would be too long.

Harry yelled into the chute, "Ready!"

Binns quickly emerged, nearly colliding with Harry. "Making sure the rope wouldn't strangle Mr. Longbottom. It does appear the charm worked well for the first 100 feet, however is a bit loose near the top, yet is adequate."

Harry had leapt to the side and was trying to shake off the cold from such proximity to the ghost. "Good idea."

The ghost chuckled and shot back up the pipe. Harry shook his head, Binn's desire to stay might have been his book, but he sure was proving he enjoyed the pranking perks of being a ghost. Harry picked up his bag after replacing the featherlight charm on it, and moved to the opposite side of the room. While waiting for Neville, Harry began casting revealo around the circumference of the room, and hunting for hidden doors.

Unable to find any signs of hidden doors, Harry turned his gaze to the mostly deboned floor. Most places in the castle an observant student could get around by following the groves in the floors caused by a millennia of students; tiled floors had lost their gloss, and in some areas were completely worn through, except by the walls. Even in the most highly trafficked areas of the castle, near the walls hints of elaborate mosaics could be found. Harry hadn't thought to wonder why a magic school hadn't fixed its floors until his Room tour of the French castles of the Loire Valley, where an information placard and ropes proudly proclaimed the bits of centuries-old tile left. But here, where there had been no hordes of students rushing, there appeared to still be an elaborate mosaic.

Harry began cleaning the floor, and had it mopped and waxed with still no sign of Neville. The mosaics were fully intact, though at points the grout was quite stained, but with the wax the ceramic and marble gleamed. The wood grain effect and length of the tiles around the circumference of the floor looked like wood planks, and Harry had to touch them to be sure it wasn't wood, though wood probably would have rotted away over the vast amount of time. In the center of the room was an elaborate Hogwarts Crest which appeared to be in relief, though it was as flat and smooth as the rest of the floor. Harry knelt near the crest, and was studying it as he finally heard a whooshing sound coming from the chute.

Harry quickly added another cushioning charm, as Neville shot out of the chute, landing like a stone skipping over water. Finally coming to rest in the middle of the room. "Professor!"

The ghost in question was leisurely leaving the chute, with a far too innocent look on his face. "Yes?"

"You are lucky you are noncorporal."

"What did he do?"

"Told me to tuck in low and add a weight spell to my shoes to avoid hitting my head," Neville grumbled.

"I thought you were going faster, I thought he'd gotten you to wax the chute or something."

"This is marvelous, Mr. Potter! Wonderful.. wonderful. No alteration to the crest, no change in color or size of the snake.. Such workmanship!"

Harry offered Neville a hand up, and led his friend to the crest. "Glad I thought to do some more cleaning charms down here. I don't think this was Slytherin's private territory."

"It is quite unlike anything described at Slytherin's manor." Binns said, "The color scheme in the surrounding floor, quite resembles the background of one of Lady Ravenclaw's most famous tapestries. While the white marble dominates, the clusters of the house colors, are still present without being overwhelming. Notice how in each cluster, each house is represented either with its primary or secondary color, and she rotates their arrangements, but always keeps them located as their dorms are located in the Castle."

"It's amazingly dry down here," said Neville.

"Might be a side effect of all my cleaning spells."

"No, I mean the air itself. If Slytherin specialized in Potions he would need a cool, dry place as devoid of active magic as possible. Not to mention he'd want to keep his research private and protected."

"But, Neville, wouldn't it be pretty hard to get down here frequently without someone noticing?"

"Mr. Potter, I believe you have failed to recognize that plumbing for indoor bathrooms is relatively recent."

"Professor, are there any old blueprints of Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Not in the public domain."

"So we'll ask the Room tomorrow."

Surprised that Neville hadn't commented on his dependence on the Room or Hermione for research, Harry looked and saw that Neville was kneeling next to the seal, leaning forward to touch it. All Harry had as warning was a vague sense of unease, when Neville began to tickle the dragon, and the floor began to spin.

* * *

_Added and subtracted quite a bit from this part as I was typing this part from my notebook. I've written in 3different ones, as usually the muse visits when I am waiting to fall asleep, glad to have be down to 2 notebooks now. _

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. :-)_


	22. Spin Cycle

_Surprised that Neville hadn't commented on his dependence on the Room or Hermione for research, Harry looked and saw that Neville was kneeling next to the seal, leaning forward to touch it. All Harry had as warning was a vague sense of unease, when Neville began to tickle the dragon, and the floor began to spin._

* * *

_**Part 22 - Spin Cycle  
**_

_**

* * *

**_

The floor began to tilt, and bounce as the speed of the rotation steadily increased. Harry threw himself to the floor, and wandlessly cast a sticking spell between his left hand and the floor. His backpack slammed into his left side, and after wincing, Harry grabbed it with his right hand, stuck it to the floor as well, and stuck his right arm through the strap. Flat on his belly, Harry looked towards the crest, and saw that Neville was contained in a golden cylinder. The animal bones that had been on the left side of the room were now flying in the air, and the tile planks were spiraling up from the edges of the floor. A few bits of bone, hit the golden cylinder around Neville and turned to ash. Harry was now sure the sticking charm was the best piece of magic ever.

As the debris hit the walls and the field around the crest, Harry noticed spiral staircases were unwinding from the edges of the floor, the bones falling on them and falling as the steps rose steadily up. The wind was howling in Harry's ears, despite the windbreak from his bag.

Just as Harry thought that the next bounce would break the charm, and Harry began wondering if frying on the field or flying into the wall would be the more painful death, there was a loud thud and the platform stopped moving.

Harry stayed on the floor, allowing himself to go limp.

"Harry… Are you okay?" A firm hand under Harry's shoulder turned him over.

Harry groaned at the painful tug at his stuck hand, and released the charm. "So you had to tickle the sleeping dragon."

Neville shrugged.

Harry sat up, "So what do you figure, basilisk protection?"

Neville offered Harry a hand up, "At least you can assume the office wasn't accessed second year."

Harry looked around at the clean floor. "Yeah, whatever didn't get vaporized fell to whatever is beneath this level."

Neville took a deep breath, "There must be some serious air purification charms down here."

Binns floated back down to them. "Well? Hurry up. The upper room has a snake guardian." The ghost shot down the descending staircase.

Harry muttered sarcastically, "No, I'm fine, just a bit sore. Did my life flash before my eyes..."

"Sorry, Harry."

"No, it's ok. Just didn't appreciate the orders. You're lucky that you didn't get fried or something."

"I don't think Binns really remembers that we're alive." Neville started towards the staircases.

Harry shrugged and soon was holding onto the railings with both hands as he loped up the stairs two at a time. Neville, while no longer as fearful of heights, took the stairs just one at a time. Soon enough he'd caught up to Harry who was taking a much needed breather despite their training. "This is nuts. There must be a lift hidden somewhere. Or Ravenclaw was as paranoid as Lavender about her weight."

Neville shook his head and very quickly peeked over the stair rail to the mosaic floor now about 50 feet below. "The founders were supposed to have been able to make exceptions in their apparition wards, or they might have made the stairs move."

Harry sat on the steps, and set his bag down next to him, retrieving his flask of water. He gestured with it to Neville but the other boy shook his head. After taking a couple gulps he said, "I think we now know why Binns kept insisting we should check out household charms."

Neville shrugged, "I did look up some."

Harry looked up from putting back the flask with a bit of shock in his expression.

Neville sighed, "One of the only good times I had with Uncle Algie, before he started trying to almost kill me, was going fishing with him. I remembered the butchering spells he used on the fish, and the rabbit he stunned when he got bored."

"So you were thinking about using them in battle."

Neville nodded, "I am still working on compiling a list of which ones are illegal to use, and which variations are still legal enough. With the changes to the regulation about what is or is not dark, even one spell that cleans silver was made illegal. Granted the cleaning solution sprayed and then rubbed in could damage skin very quickly…"

"That's good. The legalities thing; last thing I want to face is another trial for defending myself, just because the minister doesn't want me around."

Neville laughed, "Worse yet, you had the Minister's overly-devoted assistant deciding to try to kill you, then settling for trying to snap your wand."

Harry shook his head, "I really don't get the Ministry of Magic. There are so many issues that muggles deem to be essential that just are ignored. And with no classes on government or civics or any of that, how can we be expected to know what is legal or not?"

Neville answered, "That's why we are given full wand rights a year before we turn 18. It's probation of sorts, but most of the info was supposed to be given to us after OWLs."

Harry sighed, "Figures. Though we wouldn't be 17 for another year; if we decide not to sneak in another year or so without the potion."

"In other words, as far as Dumbledore knows, but there is information on how underage magic is tracked…"

"Of course we already know how to get around that, but maybe he thinks Hermione would tell me how to disable it."

Neville snorted, "He must not know Hermione."

Harry shook his head, "No, Hermione would tell me, to make sure I was safe and had enough to eat. Especially since it is clear that it is tied only to my wand signature, I mean, otherwise the Order would have set off the monitor."

"Wonder if the Weaselys ever got a warning."

Harry shrugged, "Warnings wouldn't mean much to most of them; they'd only care about their mother catching them."

Neville sighed, looking up at the vast amounts of stairs they still had to go. "Know a charm to count the number of stairs."

Harry shook his head, standing back up, "Even if I did, I think it'd make me too depressed to climb any more."

Neville answered, "Anyways, before we turn 18, minor things that would cost you a fine if you were older, get you time working at the St. Mungo's or the Ministry doing clean-ups and such."

"St. Mungo's? That doesn't sound like a good idea, with all the vulnerable people there…"

Neville shrugged, "Most of the building is empty. Apparently, a squib wanted to build the tallest building in the world, but didn't bother with all the right muggle permissions. So when the crew was about to be shut down by the muggle government, he got the Magical government to hide the building, and pay off his building costs. But only the first nine floors are really in use."

"Why?"

"Elevators don't run well around magic, and while there are spells that don't effect the magic sensitive, they were mostly designed to help older witches & wizards who couldn't handle the steps to go to a second floor bedroom. And the added magic to make a lift that would run as well as a muggle one would be too great for delicate patients. Three floors was thought to be the worst drop most elderly patients could survive, and that the safety spells would cushion. So they have 4 separate sets of elevators that only let you travel 3 floors."

"And the rest of the building is empty? How many floors are there?"

Neville shrugged, "If it isn't the ward construction must be really complex, or somehow grounded into the thirteenth floor…. That'd be perfect."

"What? Oh. The thirteenth floor hidden from muggles thing that Binns told us about? Sounds like a pain in the butt."

"But if that was in the original plans, that would allow for a entirely different set of wards for thirteen and above."

"And they wouldn't lose all the space to the magic dampeners, to keep the electricity going."

"Yeah, and since magic structures repel lightening…"

"They do?"

"Yeah, that's why the Forbidden Forest gets so many hits."

"Weird. I never noticed."

Neville shrugged, "Maybe there'll be a book on it in the library."

Harry laughed, before turning to ask, "What about the lift in the Ministry?"

"Completely magical. Though it is the reason visitors are allowed to keep their wands while in the Ministry, too many parents with children got caught in the muggle invasion wards in the lift and got stuck for hours."

Neville leaned on the left rail, gripping the rail tightly still. Harry grabbed the left rail to help himself take two steps, and suddenly they were moving up. Neville nearly lost his balance, and grabbed the right rail, and the stairs stopped again.

"Shit."

Neville panted a bit, winded by the scare of nearly falling on these steps. Harry stood up fully, firmly holding both railings now, and turned his head to check on Neville.

Neville gave him a nod, and grabbed the left railing with both hands. Harry nodded back, and released the right rail. But their death grips on the rail weren't needed, because the stairs slowly started to go up, gradually speeding to a pace just less than a Gringott's cart, and slowing gradually again at the top. The boys looked at each other and laughed, before carefully stepping onto the landing.

* * *

_Sept 06 - Added a bit that was on my other computer so that it all matches up.  
_

* * *


	23. Into the Founders' Library

_Please reread Chapter 23, content was added to that chapter, after it was originally posted._

_**Into the Founder's Library**_

* * *

Before Neville could speak a word of protest, Harry stuck his hand through the golden gleam of a ward on the white marble archway that was apparently the entrance to the Founder's Library. Harry inspected his hand, "Looks like a heavy duty cleaning spell, but no abrasion." And he stepped through the arch.

Neville shook his head, and stepped through as well.

Rows and rows of dark wood bookshelves spanned from floor to 20 foot ceiling on the left side of the room. Harry was mildly surprised that the shelves were so close to each other, and that there were no ladders to access the higher books. The right side of the room had five desks built into the walls. The room was c shaped, apparently following the curve of the central shaft, with 4 marble pillars, two flanking the doorway they entered through, and 2 on the opposing wall. Directly above each of the five desks was a mirror, above which a tapestry hung the rest of the distance to the ceiling. Though the one at the far end of the room, had the Hogwarts seal, the rest were the signals of the houses.

"Guess we don't have to guess who owned what."

They wandered over to the desks, Harry heading toward Ravenclaw, and Neville to Gryffindor. Harry noticed dark stains on one corner of the tapestry; something all the more remarkable in a room as clean and as well preserved as it was. Lifting the corner, Harry revealed a set of shelves and drawers. On the lowest shelf there were stacks of parchment, an inkpot, and scraps of what might have been feather quills. Quills were useless if spelled with any sort of preservation spell near the nib, as it would repel the ink. Harry still didn't know why wizards didn't use fountain pens, and Neville hadn't known they existed.

"Neville, look under the tapestry." Harry had moved on to the next cubby, and sure enough there was a similar arrangement of shelves, with loose parchment.

"Wow, Harry, he's got the designs for security in the Forbidden Forest here." As Neville used his wand to gently turn the pages of the parchment, Harry inspected the other desks, verifying the shelves were there for all the desks, each with their own materials to explore.

Harry came to a stop next to Neville, starring at a list for plantings for the Forest, and requirements for the diets of magical creatures. "Who would have thought that Gryffindor would be a doodler!" Harry pointed at the drawings around the margins.

"Aren't doodles supposed to be off topic? Looks like this is a picture of a witchfinder being strangled by devil's snare."

"Witchfinder?"

"See the cross there, and the pointy scarf? That's about how they are depicted in the storybooks Gran read to me. Looks like the village that used to be on the other side of the Forest had nearly drowned some girls, testing them for being witches. That's why they planted the Forest between the village and the school."

"Wow. I'd have thought the Forest was the reason the school was built here, rather than the other way around, but I guess a thousand years would be enough time to change an orchard of sorts into a wild forest."

"I wonder if there is a copy of what was actually done. It would be amazing to compare to a map of Hogwarts grounds today."

Binns flew into the room, the doorway making a ringing noise that Harry hadn't heard when Neville entered. The boys turned in time to see the ghost enveloped in a purple haze as he went through the cleaning ward. "There's a locked door on the lower staircase, with snakes as the lock, could you please open it, Harry."

Though the ghost's words were polite, the tone was more of a command. Despite that, the boys followed the ghost out the door, after Neville levitated the pages back on the shelf behind the tapestry.

* * *

Perhaps it was the lack of security on the Founder's Library that made Harry a bit nervous as he approached the vault door. It was thicker than the other doors that lead to the chamber, with snakes locking it, but with the addition of a dragon in the center of the door. (_What do you guard?_)

To Harry's amazement the snakes answered in English. "The experimental laboratory."

Unable to control his parseltongue, Harry asked, (_Open up, please._) The door swung open, and Harry and Neville moved forward only to be stopped by a golden ward. (_Silly, Humans, there is no oxygen in there. You must wait for fresh air._)

Neville nudged Harry, but the snakes repeated the chastisement in English, before Harry could try to translate. The professor decided to go back to the library to create an inventory. After casting a cushioning charm, Neville and Harry sat on the landing outside the lab. "What time is it, Harry?"

Harry did a quick tempus, which showed it was nearly 9.

"Are you sure you don't want Dumbledore charged yet?"

Harry swung his head to look at Neville, "Where did that come from?"

The other boy sighed, "We've barely left the Room, are exploring one of the most significant historical finds in ages and are watching the clock…"

"Even if I trusted whoever the Headmaster was, I don't think I would tell about this. If this got in the wrong hands… Voldemort would definitely be interested in this."

Neville sighed again. "So after the inventory, did you want to go back to the Room and go through the books we haven't read?"

Harry shrugged, "They are part of the Castle, right? Maybe that is why the Room of Requirement was created, to be able to access their library without coming down here."

"Maybe the general shelves, but I doubt the ones behind the hangings were available."

Harry nodded, "The bindings seemed different on those – maybe their research logs? And we haven't really gotten any loose parchments. Getting down here is such a pain, but there wouldn't be any distractions from students."

"If they were concerned about keeping their work private, we might not be able to remove them from the library."

Harry shook his head, "Maybe on the general collection, if the Room tie in is right, but I don't see them doing any experiments in the library there. Especially with this lab here."

The snakes from the door interrupted them, "You may enter."

In the lab there was an entire wall of potions ingredients, and other supplies behind glass cabinet doors. Whatever process the lab had gone through had preserved the room thoroughly, as it looked nearly brand new. Harry began looking though the ingredients, which were in glass jars with colored lids – green ones said good and a few red ones that said stale.

"Neville, I don't think we need to wait to brew our potions anymore."

* * *

_For those wondering, the library itself was evading description for quite a while. Sorry for the delay._


	24. Confrontation and Preparations

Chapter 24: **_Confrontation and Preparations_**

* * *

Neville and Harry stood before Professor McGonagall staring straight at her. Occulmency or no, staring avoiding Dumbledore's gaze completely was the wisest course. Neville began, "Professor, as our Head of House, we are informing you that we are protesting our OWLs testing." Each boy handed her a sealed letter. "On the basis of the disturbance during our Practical for Astronomy."

Harry continued, "We understand we are required to retake all our OWLs, but are asking for the Ministry to recognize the disruption and probable decrease in scores for our peers."

McGonagall's usually stoic expression didn't hold. Her jaw dropped and she stuttered, "I thought… Well.."

Harry continued, "Copies of our requests have been Stamped and owled to the Hogwart's Governors in good standing, the Ministry, and the Headmaster, as required."

Harry took a step closer, and handed McGonagall a separate envelope. "Additionally, I am appalled to report that my personal legal correspondence is being interfered with. I also request to be added to the list of those the aurors will interview regarding Madam Umbridge's illegal activities. As the Fifth Year Introductory classes were canceled for this investigation, I do hope that we will receive the material in written form."

The Great Hall was silent, everyone was listening, as the boys knew they would. Neville was careful to keep his face free from any reaction, as Harry continued, "I also require the safe return of my property, namely my Firebolt broom that was illegally confiscated by Madam Umbridge. In the Hogwart's bylaws, it is forbidden to confiscate a healthy student's sole form of magical transportation; though that portion was arguably to provide sanctuary for magical carpets for Continental students during the Plague."

McGonagall looked startled, and Harry realized he'd sounded more like Hermione than himself. "Mr. Potter, perhaps we should adjourn to the Headmaster's office."

Harry shook his head, "I could not further impose on your time, especially when you are so busy that you couldn't make our last appointment. I understand this investigation is very important." Harry took a step back, "In any case, I already made plans with some of my defense study group for after breakfast. The second envelope I handed you has all of my requests, so you can peruse them at your nearest convenience, as there are additional matters of concern."

With that Harry pivoted on his heel, and went to claim a seat next to Dean and Seamus. The hall broke out in whispers. After a short pause, Neville addressed McGonagall, "Thank you, Professor, for hearing our formal protest."

When Neville joined the Gryffindor table, the whole hall resumed its usual volume, except for those seated near the Fifth years who were conspicuously silent.

"Blimey. Where are you hiding the firewhiskey?"

Harry blinked in surprise, "What?"

"You can't be flat sober, mate. Retake your OWLs, formal protests?"

Neville answered, "Nothing has been fixed by staying silent."

Dean leaned forward, "What do you mean?"

"Quirrell, Lockhart, Hagrid being framed, fake Moody, and now Umbridge," Harry replied. "Sure everyone knew afterward, but nothing was done by them," Harry gestured to the Head Table, "or anyone else. Hagrid was expelled because Voldemort opened the Chamber of Secrets when they were students here. Was justice served when it was proven that half-blood student Tom Riddle 'I have daddy issues' aka Voldemort, opened it and killed his first victim, Myrtle? Poor Moaning Myrtle, I doubt anyone even bothered to ask her ghost what killed her, before our second year."

"After Quirrell, why wasn't each prospective DADA teacher checked thoroughly? What's the point of having truth potions and spells if you never use them! Every year I've nearly been killed, and this year there was the addition of torture." Harry stopped, as he felt stabs at his mental shields, and concentrated on his breathing.

Catching the signs from Harry, Neville took over, "Beyond everything, our testing was disrupted, and unless somebody stepped up and challenged it, no compensation would have been given to anyone. And if Harry did it alone, the Ministry might try to dispute it."

"That's pretty harsh though, if I heard right, Neville. You have to retake all the OWLs?" Dean asked.

"Apparently, there were problems in the 1920s with the Arithmancy exams, where people would deliberately cause disruptions, to retake that exam. So they made it stricter."

Seamus said, "All your grades are wiped out, like you never took a single OWL, so if you don't retake them all, you don't pass the grade."

Neville cut in, "Even if you weren't in a required class, there are some families that are excused from Herbology for being cursed with black thumbs, you have to take all the main five, and then can choose which of the additional ones, because of the Arithmancy mess – they didn't want the same test phobics causing a disruption again."

"But they made the cursed ones take Herbology? That doesn't make any sense."

Harry looked up rubbing his temples, "Since when does anything here make any sense?"

Outside the Room of Requirement, Harry concentrated on making the rooms he and Neville had studied in for a year be connected by a door to a main room, similar to the one the DA had used, he also thought about making the walls see through into the DA Room only. Harry needed to be able to see the others coming, so he would know when he needed to stop brewing. Entering the rooms, Harry turned on the hourglasses, and began unloading his bag. Soon priceless ingredients from the Experimental Lab began to cover the counter.

Seamus had reluctantly admitted that his mother had slipped in his old selkie plushie when he left for first year, and that it never left his trunk. So the other boys had gone to retrieve it from the dorms. Which would give Neville plenty of time to fill in some more of the theory to them, while Harry could start a cauldron of animagus potions to give it more time to cure.

The ingredients from the Experimental Laboratory were worth a King's Ransom, not only because they included scarce and extinct species, but also, because they had been preserved in a manner that let ingredients that improved with age do so, but somehow froze the others at the moment of harvest. Neville had declared the set of spells to do this the most valuable thing they might be able to retrieve from the Chamber, as the secret was believed lost to time, due to a most unfortunate explosion at an Apothecary's Guild conference in the 1700s. Neville also thought it far more likely that his Gran was right, and the Guild actually decided they'd make far more money if people had to constantly buy fresh ingredients. Apparently she'd found rare ingredients always had a far longer shelf life, as did the ones purchased for St. Mungo's, as she only knew as she was on a fundraising commitee.

Harry had completed two cauldrons full of animagus potion, a cauldron of ward enhancer, and an assortment of basic healing potions, before he realized that he had set the hourglasses too high. Rather than change the setting, Harry set an alarm to sound if anyone approached the door, and took a nap.

When the alarm finally sounded, Harry had already awakened, eaten lunch, and begun setting up the DA room. Harry reset the hourglasses, for 5 minutes to pass for every 1 minute normal time, and set down the latest sample component he'd finished.

"So what took you guys so long?"

Dean lightly slapped Seamus on the shoulder. "Turns out our boy here had a shrunken trunk of his baby things in his school trunk."

Seamus slugged Dean's shoulder in return, "You guys promised to keep it a secret!" He turned to Harry, "As I explained to them, my Gran packed up my nursery when I was three. She thought me Mum was coddling me, so she took away everything and made it a 'proper young gentleman's room'. And after staying a week, keeping Mum from restoring anything, she left taking the lot with her.

"And when we tried to change it, we found she'd hexed it so that I couldn't even put up a Quidditch poster. My parents finally just added on, and Mum warded my new room to keep Gran out. I'm surprised they didn't have to call aurors to break up the next fight they got in."

Harry asked, "How old is your Gran?"

"Actually, she's my great-great-grandmother, and she is 110, but she pretends to be just 65. I think she'd try for younger if there weren't senior discounts."

Dean said, "Don't see Lavender ever admitting to over 50, no matter the discount."

Neville answered, "It's great your Gran is willing to go to the Muggle world at all. Mine won't, even as tight as she grips the Knuts, no matter how her card club clucks at her."

"So no senior discounts on Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

"No. Only for special patrons, which I think you're becoming as a bunch of mail was on your bed." Neville handed Harry a bag, "I grabbed it for you, while Dean was teasing Seamus."

Harry accepted the bag. "Let me show you guys what we worked out." Harry gestured to the long worktable he and the Room set up. "Since we were talking about making how long the rags stayed transfigured a contest, we first have a bunch of cloth, courtesy of the house elves. They cut up old curtains for us, which is a bit nicer since they are mostly silk or velvet, and have Hogwarts emblems. It'd be rougher for a kid if they liked the plushie, if it turned back into somebody's yellowed undershirt."

Harry picked up a scrap of red velvet curtain with a Gryffin roaring proudly. "There are no Slytherin themed fabric bits. We sorted it by patterns; there's plenty, especially of the Hogwarts Crest.

Neville added, "We didn't want a clog up because people were fighting for a fabric from their house. We do have white fabric too – mostly from old sheets – so people can practice, or the girls can make clothing for their plushies."

Seamus asked, "How many plushies are you thinking people would make?"

Harry shrugged, "We don't have a huge amount of time left. I hope we can push it so everyone helps make two – one for their own protection, and one for a child."

The others nodded.

"Next are bits of leather, broken jewelery, sand, rocks, and broken crystal. At this station people will make collars for the plushies, to hold retrieval and protection charms for the plushies, and to make crystals to charge with the patronus."

"This is a lot of material, Harry. Where did the elves get it all?" Dean asked.

"Apparently its from the bins. The elves recycle everything they can, storing most of it until it's needed. Recent Headmasters haven't asked for much, so there is quite a bit more where this came from."

Neville jumped in, "We made some examples for the collars – Harry got the idea from one of the mail order catalogs – they just added a collar with a retrieval charm to muggle made toys."

"I think it's a great idea – just call 'Spots' or whatever name it is given and it goes to the caller."

"Plus, any additional charms can just be put on the collar – notice me not, compelling charms, and the like to keep it from being thrown away…" Neville added.

Seamus fingered through the pile of broken jewelery, "Seems like you guys did a ton of work."

Harry shrugged, "Not really, the Room did all of the signs, including the lists of spells. And the elves were eager to see the scraps be useful again."

Dean smiled and shook his head, "I wonder how long it'll take me to stop being in awe of magic."

Neville laughed, "Even if you are raised around magic there's always something new. Right, Seamus?"

"Me house is mostly muggle, Neville, but I know what you mean. Mum keeps complaining that we aren't shown enough magic here."

Harry snorted, "Yeah, like for career planning. In muggle schools they have speakers and give you tests to see what all you'd likely be good at."

Dean laughed, "Yours should've been quick, Professional Quidditch Star."

"Hmm, Dean, too bad they don't have tests, maybe we'd find out you're a natural Beater."

"And his career would come to a smashing end when he tries to hit the bludger with his head instead of the bat," Seamus said.

They all laughed, as Dean's love of soccer nearly forced all he talked to, to at least know only the goalie could use his hands.

"So who all did you guys talk to?" asked Neville.

Dean answered, "Nearly everybody in the DA, except for Ron and Hermione. Extra people might show up too, a few of the Ravenclaws really want to work on their Patronus. Somehow the fourth years found out you got bonus points on the Defense OWL."

Seamus added, "Apparently it can be a big point option for NEWTs too, so there will be sixth year Ravens too. And in Hufflepuff the idea of doing something for sick kids and their families…"

Harry asked, "Any rough numbers?"

Dean answered, "Maybe 50, but I have a feeling that some of them will be trying the Patronus in private before they decide."

"We might need more supplies then. And we'll definitely need to prep more examples." Harry had dug out a notebook out of his bag, and scribbled a couple notes down.

"Now, let's get started."

* * *

_Finally a new day!_


	25. Value of Assembly

_**Chapter 25: The Value of Assembly**_

* * *

"The transfiguration spell here is a more general one, requiring a firm picture in your head. The less detailed the picture, the less complete the transfiguration. So if I thought simply of making a bear, I might get one with the fabric unchanged. There are lists of spells that can be used to customize the plushie to what you want."

"That's why we have pictures of examples from the catalogs in the center. For people can't visualize as well," Neville added.

Seamus looked doubtful, "Maybe we should add more space, Harry… I can really see some people taking a long time." From the tone of his voice, it was clear Seamus sure he'd be one of the slow ones.

Harry nodded, and concentrated. Soon there were multiple tables with a couple for each station, as well as a lounging/refreshment area in the middle. There were also big signs from the ceiling proclaiming what that station was. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks good," Dean said, Neville and Seamus nodded their agreement.

"So now let's try making some."

Dean and Seamus easily transfigured a couple of the white cloths into basic teddy bears. Harry transfigured a couple Hogwarts scraps into a stuffed snake with a leather-like skin, and a plushie Merlin holding a staff inscribed with his name.

Dean pointed at the doll, "I thought we were doing stuffed animals."

Harry shrugged, "Neville and I have gotten a lot of practice. So I really wanted to do something different, but I am also wondering if it might be harder for older kids to accept a plushie. Do wizarding boys know about dinosaurs?"

Seamus answered, "I think they are more popular with muggles – they don't know dragons are real."

Harry asked, "Do they have dragon safaris?"

Seamus shook his head, "Not that I know of, they are too wild. With a lion, at least you can get high, and in a cage their jaws can't breach. A dragon wouldn't even bloody his jaws if he took a bite out of a jeep."

Dean added, "Ginny told me there is a tourist element to dragon handler training. They take in more recruits than any other field, except the Ministry, but only add a couple a year. They don't take anyone under 18 though, and Charlie heard they might raise it to 21."

Dean pulled out his sketchpad from his back pocket, resized it, and drew a skeleton for a wing. Followed by surface coverings for the top and the bottom of the wings, and the body of the dragon as a whole. "You say the transfiguration breaks down from the strength of the patronus spell, over time, right?"

Harry suddenly realized why Dean had been drawing the skeletons. "So you want to spell the skeleton separately for flying?"

"That would be a great toy. I think one of the ones I got had spells with it for Mum to cast to make it fly, but she only did it a couple times," said Seamus.

Neville had been working on collars, as he had had plenty of practice making plushies while they were trying to figure out how much to charge the crystals with the Patronus. Avoiding using any transfiguration or sticking charms required them to reshape some of the metal into grommets and the like. Luckily home decorative and jewelry information were among the most up to date and thorough collections in the library, despite there not being specific courses for the topics, as it was a tradition for wizards to shape promise rings themselves.

"What spells are you thinking of using?" Neville asked, looking up from his work.

Dean shrugged, "I figured I'd talk to Flitwick. A snitch has wings that fly it, and it has boundaries, so there has to be a way to do it on a smaller scale."

"Well, since McGonagall is out, unless something drastically changes, maybe you could ask him if he'd be willing to be a faculty supervisor for our contest at the same time," Harry said.

Dean looked a bit surprised, "Why me? And why would we need a teacher?"

Harry shrugged, "Well, I don't think McGonagall or Dumbledore are going to be happy with me for a while, and if I ask another Head of House... It might make things worse. Plus, with a teacher watching, we might get more people that, um, follow the rules."

Seamus looked a bit embarrassed, but added, "And if it gets in the Prophet, it would look better for the school."

"I think that matters more on the mood of the writer than anything else," Dean added, "But I'll ask him if he has time to talk at lunch. Just about the flight bit at first."

Soon after, the chime Harry had set to go off at lunch time rang.

"Lunch," said Harry who began packing up some sample bits for Hermione.

Seamus smiled, "Great! I need a change. Coming back this afternoon, right?"

Harry nodded, "I might be a bit though, I need to stop by the hospital wing."

The other guys nodded, and Neville added, "Harry, you probably should take a stroll outside, incase there are any more letters that might be singed."

Harry sighed, "I think I'll take a walk, then eat with Ron and Hermione. Unless you don't want to face McGonagall alone, Neville."

"What? Oh, the test stuff. I don't think they'd bother unless you were there, Harry. They'd probably try to guilt trip you."

Seamus snorted, "They'll bring it to Hermione first. So you better go there."

Harry looked surprised, but nodded. "All the portraits report to Dumbledore, so he'll know I'm headed to the grounds, if he wants to find me."

"That's a bit pervy isn't it?" said Seamus.

Dean shuddered, "I guess we know why broom closets are so popular, despite the smells."

Harry suddenly remembered that Ginny would likely bat-bogey him if she wasn't invited to practice. "Hey, guys, could you see if the fourth years are done with exams yet? Ginny and Luna could give us a girl's perspective if they are."

Neville was the only one that didn't look a bit confused. "Luna went to the Ministry with us," Neville explained. Though the other boys had surely heard through the grapevine, the change of their expressions showed they'd forgotten.

* * *

_Sorry for the delay. Thanks so much for your reviews and suggestions. _


	26. Lunching with Hermione

_No spoilers to worry about. Started this fic before HBP, and wrote this chapter longhand months ago. So no changes due to DH.  
_

* * *

**Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom**

Chapter 26 – _Lunching with Hermione_

* * *

Harry briskly walked to the lake, searching the sky for any owls. His bag slung over his shoulder contained the mail Neville had brought from the dorm, and Harry thought it fitting to go through as he waited. Harry pulled out the bundle of mail, and began to check it for hexes and charms. Given the state of Harry's letter and Dumbledore's claims of it not being safe for Harry to receive mail in the past, they'd learned the spells recommended in the _So You've Received Your First Death Threat_ chapter of _So You Think You're Auror Material. _It also listed ways to check for pranking spells – commonly used to initiate young aurors into the ranks – in the special appendix that only revealed itself when you tapped your wand on all the footnotes to the chapter.

Harry discovered Neville had put a hair-growing hex on the bundle, and quickly countered it. After verifying there were no other untoward spells Harry opened the top box from Flourish and Blotts. Scanning the invoice, Harry was impressed at the charm work of the store, as the small size of the box had led him to believe that it was a partial order. Instead it was all his orders from the store combined, the spines of the books facing the top, so Harry could easily check the order, after he pulled off the packages of bookplates.

Flourish and Blotts had to be commended on its speed – all but the latest order Harry had sent were in the box. Harry would have appreciated it under other circumstances, but he didn't have time to start charming them all with Hermione. He pulled out _Family Travels: Even with a squib-in-law! _to give to Hermione. It was one he'd not been able to access in the room, as it was a relatively recent title, but Hermione would be able to ask the differences between transporting muggles and squibs without the questions that might come if he did. He repacked his bag, and searched the sky one last time for any stray owls. Seeing none, Harry headed up to the Hospital Wing.

He avoided the most used paths until he was a good ways into the castle, making time as he neared the hospital wing to greet other students in the hall, even nodding at a few younger Slytherins. He noted the portraits even seemed bored of seeing him here, the younger ones not dashing about like the ones on the kitchens hall.

The gray stone walls of Hogwarts were depressing, after the sun and breezes. Negative thoughts and memories that Dumbledore had hidden nearly broke through Harry's efforts to keep up his occulmency. So he stopped in the empty hall outside the entrance to Madam Pomfrey's domain, and concentrated on his breathing. When Harry reopened his eyes, a young man in a bright yellow robe was staring at him from a very pink portrait.

Impulsively Harry asked, "Are there any Potter portraits here?"

The figure sniffed, "All the families of the Board have portraits here." And left the frame – which Harry noticed was labeled **Lady V. Malfoy's Boudoir**.

Anger broke through Harry's control, and soon the smell of ozone was thick in the hall. Not only was a Malfoy painting close to the Infirmary – an excellent location to learn weaknesses and odd happenings – but the portrait was not warded to prevent the subject from traveling. No wonder Lucius had been so timely in his arrivals second year – Lady V could inform him of the arrival of each student far faster than an owl could fly.

Harry nearly staggered into the Infirmary, not bothering to hide his emotions. Hermione had clearly been expecting him, her expression softening at seeing his, Ron was snoring softly. "What happened?"

"It's the portraits."

"What?"

"All the members of the Board have the right to hang portraits in Hogwarts."

"I've never read that…"

Harry took a deep breath, "A blond in a Malfoy portrait just told me, before he slid to another portrait."

Hermione worried her lip a bit, before saying, "That explains Headquarters."

Harry thought for a minute and shook his head, "You can bind portraits to their paintings."

"Couldn't you force them from their paintings, and lock them out… No, there was someone else in the frame… Perhaps Umbridge freed them… Or Professor Dumbledore has other spells…"

Harry stared out the window, " I wonder how much Malfoy Sr tells Draco, and how much of his taunts come from the Malfoy portraits…"

Hermione shot a silencing charm at the doorway, "That will have to do for now." She shrugged, and looked him over, "What kept you?"

Harry sat in the chair next to her bed, and smiled, "Neville and I were showing Dean and Seamus how to transfigure Patronus Pals. And I got some mail."

"Did anything good come?" Hermione was looking at the book in his hand expectantly.

Harry handed over the transportation book, "No brooms yet, though you can tell Ron they sent a note saying they'll be shipped via the train. Apparently, owls can't handle disillusioned large packages well for long distances."

Hermione was already checking the front and back flyleafs of the book. "Strange that both yours got here that way then."

Harry shook his head, "Apparently, they are owled from the post office in Hogsmede to the castle, though I was offered 15 sickles back if I can get a pass to pick it up myself there Saturday morning."

Hermione was already in the table of contents, before she seemed to realize that her book order had been more than one book. "Where are the other books? Are they coming Saturday, as well?"

Harry smiled, "There's the matter of your birthday present."

Hermione looked confused, and Harry wished he'd ordered a camera. "My birthday isn't for months yet."

"And that that book is more likely to have information that you need to tell me about, and frankly, I have no idea if squibs and muggles are equivalent in travel. I know they're not with dementors." Hermione looked ready to protest, "And they combined the orders, so your present is in with the rest, and McGonagall didn't show up for my meeting with her, so I don't have permission yet."

"Harry. I'm the one that is supposed to babble."

"I've asked for permission to put a set of reference shelves in the Common Room."

Hermione looked surprised, then really flattered. "That would be wonderful! Especially since Madam Pince doesn't keep many reference copies, except for textbooks. I wouldn't need to run out to check references nearly as often!"

"And with ordering them with permanent anti-plagiarism and anti-copying charms, I was able to get a substantial enough discount to get multiple copies of the titles I know you use most."

Hermione looked giddy, "Really? I didn't even know that was an option."

"It's in the fine print, in the middle of the catalog. You can't get text books with those charms, apparently because of writing lines. And they offer more, like waterproofing and stain protection, but those cost more than the books."

"Are you going to try them yourself?"

"Yes, the preservation charms are fairly straightforward – the trick is that you have to spell the bookcase as well."

"I'd wondered how any of the Twins books survived," Hermione mused, then with a bit of panic on her face turned to check that Ron was still sleeping.

Harry laughed, "Don't think he'd disagree with you, if he was awake. Why's he sleeping anyhow?"

"Some people I think were Unspeakables were here last night to check for long-term effects. Madam Pomfrey read them the riot act, until Mr. Weasely was called here to supervise."

Harry looked at Ron, looking if there was any change to the marks on his arms, "Really?"

"Yes, they were here most of the night. I tried to keep track of the spells, but Madam Pomfrey caught me awake, and gave me a sleeping potion."

"Would have thought you'd be one of the last she'd give a sleeping potion."

Hermione blinked, "What? Oh. Second year." She shrugged, "The messed up poly… ehm cat transfiguration really was a bit painful to reverse, she'd give me a potion then spell me asleep as well, while she worked.

"Unfortunately, I'd cleaned out all my hairbrushes, otherwise she could have reversed it with just a polyjuice of myself."

"Really? I never knew that."

"A bit scary isn't it? That it is so easy to wear someone else's guise or be invisible?"

"Why couldn't she give you her hair?"

"Adolescence. A potion even of a hair of my own more than a month old could have destroyed my magic, or stopped my development."

"That seems odd. Hair's dead, right? And it takes ages to grow as long as yours."

"I couldn't find any source that was definitive on the issue, and I didn't think the expense of a medical text was justified for idle curiosity… But I think the magical signature was the key with the limits of polyjuice, needing a part of the person."

"You must have gone nuts waiting for more to read that year."

"No, I would have asked. You are such a good friend to go this year. Then I worked on catching up, and then working ahead – well, not in Defense or Potions." Hermione almost snorted, "McGonagall and Flitwick judged my practical work. I actually was nearly done with the year. That's why I was allowed," Hermione lowered her voice even further," the timeturner."

"Oh. I thought it was to thank you for figuring it out."

Hermione replied, "I actually got a bit of a lecture from Madam Pince. She thought I'd torn out the page of the book, when I'd used a copy spell onto a parchment I'd torn off a scroll."

Harry laughed, "I think that's what made it irrefutable to us – that it was torn out."

"Are you sure it wasn't because it meant you weren't hearing voices?" Hermione's voice was full of laughter.

Harry's face clouded, "Voices are better than visions."

Hermione jerked, "I'm sorry… Harry. I didn't mean…"

Harry waved it off, "No, it's just…" Harry shook his head, "I guess, it's just I still don't know what's possible."

Hermione frowned. Harry continued, "I've been here five years, and I think most first year Slytherins still know more about the Wizarding World than I do." And Harry knew as he said this, that this would have to be his test, he'd hate himself for doing it, but he had to know he if could trust Hermione. " I mean… Hagrid's great, but it's a bit much – you're a wizard, a spin through Diagon, my parents were murdered, and then back the Durselys. You'd think there'd be an introduction or something. Where's Wizard Studies?"

Hermione patted his hand, "That's why I tried Muggle Studies. I thought it would at least point me to the things deemed important to compare. But it really wasn't. All the mispronunciations, and so far out of date that I'm not sure my Grandmother would have recognized what they were talking about. So the lectures were useless, more like a comedy sketch of blind detectives or archeologists from the far future."

Harry didn't know what that answer told him, but lunch trays appeared over the foot of Hermione's bed, so they ate, the topic turning to Hermione's musings, as she paged through the transportation book.

* * *

_And next, the meeting with Flitwick._


	27. A Second Meeting

**Grief, Deceptions, and Hope for Freedom**

_Chapter 27 - A Second Meeting_

It had been quite a few weeks into their year in the Room of Requirement, before Neville realized that Harry really needed to write down what he had done before they went in the Room, and what he'd need to do after they got out. If Neville hadn't thought of it, Harry might have forgotten the appointment entirely, as it was he remembered little beyond the portrait.

Harry feinted towards the kitchens, doubling back to the route without portrait spies. Though he believed the paintings were released along with the ghosts, their behavior hadn't visibly changed. Better to practice stealth and subterfuge, than hope others would keep secrets. Some secret passages were marked with tracking spells from the Headmaster, but the Heir books had taught him ways to blend his signature with Hogwarts for short periods of time, so that was no longer a worry.

Luckily the hall outside Flitwick's office was clear, and Harry heaved a sign of relief as the door quickly opened to his knock.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Flitwick with a smile.

"Hello, Professor."

Flitwick gestured Harry to take a seat in the library section of his office, and Harry noticed that he had a copy of _Desperate Protections_ out to the page on Patronus Pals. "I see Dean spoke to you?"

The small man hopped into the other chair, and the legs rose, so that the professor's eyelevel was slightly above Harry's. "Yes. I have suggested that Professor Sprout also be approached as a sponsor? Dean suggested the majority of participating students would be from our two houses. Independent of other goings on I say the Pals will be an excellent project for Hogwarts students." Flitwick's facial expression was reserved, despite his words.

"I suppose the testing…" Harry trailed off, ending with a half-shrug.

Flitwick raised his hand in a calming gesture, "While the way you presented your appeal was very dramatic, and might raise questions about your activities, my concern is solely for your marks. With the increase of births after 1981, and the Headmaster's refusal to hire additional staff, the lowest acceptable grade to continue has been raised for post OWL classes. The only remedial classes that will be offered will be retaking the entire year. We have to make sure you are not prevented from attending your scheduled retest."

"What?"

"And that you have ample time to review before the test. As you don't want to take the tests after your magic has essentially been dormant for a month."

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "I didn't even think of that. Preventing me from attending the retest…"

Flitwick studied Harry, "It would be the simplest way for the Ministry to marginalize you. However, with this Patronus Pals project you might achieve significant enough good press to reduce the number of potential Ministry saboteurs."

Harry stared at the tapestry that he knew was covering his family portrait. "Did you hear if they're doing anything about the mail wards?"

Flitwick shook his head. "Would you like me to check you?"

"No, I've already checked. It looks like they must be location specific, not just on me. I just don't know how I can get around them if they have them here and at Privet Drive."

"There are members of the Order watching your residence?"

"Last summer, as much good as it did."

"Warding is tricky. It is possible to purchase Warding services via Gringotts, but that requires the permission of the owners."

Harry gave a dark laugh, "That's me."

Flitwick nodded, "But you are not to know that."

"But who's to say I do? Could just be paranoid for security after the Dementors last year…"

"Have you checked your owl for curses?"

"Could I bring her to you? Or could you check her in the Owlery?"

"A snowy owl, I believe? What is her name?"

"Hedwig."

"The patron saint of orphans, rather apt." Flitwick nodded, "It would be less noticed if I see her the second to last day of school in the Owlery. Less time for the removal of any charms to be noticed, but not too close to the time of departure."

"Is there anyway to remove location owl wards without magic?"

"One of the household goods stores had an Owl entrance window, that you tap with a wand and it is automatically installed. I'm not sure what the screening criteria were for owls, but you might see if you can locate one of those, and set a mail ward on yourself directing owls to go to that window."

"But if the wards start at the property line…"

"Yes, if you can take walks out of the immediate area safely, then such warding would be detrimental. However, I think the Owl Window had an attraction charm on it, that might cancel out a weaker ward, so I think it would be good to check out in any case."

In the attic, if Harry remembered correctly, the back wall was further out than the foundation by at least a few inches. If the wards were tied to the foundation, that gap might allow owls to slip in, and if he got another set of silencing stakes, and muggle repelling charms he might be able to keep his aunt and uncle from noticing. "Sir, I'll see if I can find the seller in the library."

"If not, when we meet next, inform me, and I'll see if I can pick one up in the Alley this weekend. Now let's talk about the Fidelius."

.oOo.

* * *

_Sorry this is so short, but wanted to push something out to help with my writer's block...   
_


	28. Gems for Patronii

Thanks so much for all the reviews! 1001. Wow.

Chapter 28 - Gems for Patronii

After talking more with Flitwick, Harry intentionally wandered some of the busiest halls on the way back out to the lake. While the others were already probably back in the Room – Dean and Seamus would trust Neville more than other Gryffs might. Five years of sharing a dorm made it clear that Ron and Seamus were the two most likely to try to bluff, Neville to fold unless the hand was outstanding, and Dean to read all their attempts at poker faces.

Neville simply hadn't been wired to claim false competence. Harry thought that Seamus would likely be more successful with Neville's help than his own, as there was still a bit of if he can do it anyone can lingering among those who hadn't been there for all the DA. That is, if Seamus' wand worked well enough for Neville to be able to demonstrate.

When Harry got to the Room, Dean was prodding a silver skeleton of a dragon with his wand, and Neville and Seamus were in the middle of the contents of Seamus' nursery. Which included a twin bed with rails as well as a cot and a changing table. The contents of the light pine chest with "Toys" painted on it in bright primary blue seemed to have erupted out and onto Seamus who was sprawled on the floor. Neville was laughing and holding up the teetering pile that was still rising a bit from the chest.

Harry cast a shrinking charm on the top of the pile. Neville smiled then began to help Seamus up.

"Boy, you were a spoiled sot," said Harry.

Seamus shook his head, "Stupidly stubborn. Most of these are toys that I tried to take into my old room. Gran must've had a charm to put them in the chest, but didn't expand them or something."

Harry shook his head, "Was the chest shrunk?"

"Of course..."

"Then the overlapping charms canceled when you finited the outer charm – otherwise the toy chest would have busted, and the toys would have been smashed."

Neville almost smirked, "You're forgetting that it was a child's toy chest. Expansion charms on them are usually limited to the length of the child's arm – to prevent siblings from binning each other."

Harry waved a hand in dismissal, "Seamus's dad is a muggle – and it's painted not carved. I bet that it was a muggle chest- hence shrinking charms."

What Ravenclaws have you two been hanging with?" asked Seamus.

Neville smiled and asked, "Who's right?"

Seamus shrugged, "How would I know? My Gran packed it up forever ago."

Harry noticed Seamus was petting a well-worn bear. "Have you tried to fly any of those yet, Dean?"

Dean was so enraptured by his work that he apparently didn't hear Harry, as he didn't even flinch. Harry laughed, "I guess it's time to get to work."

"Seamus managed to get a forged gem to hold a patronus."

"Wow! That was fast."

Seamus answered, "I think it really helps to have a patronus cast from the same wand first."

"Yeah, the first ones I tried I barely got mist. Neville used mine while I took a breather, and after he had cast a few times – when I tried it was as easy as a lumos."

"Wow," Harry said. "Since it's confidence and the happiness of the memory… Maybe that would be a way to get people to learn it faster than they did in the DA."

"I don't think that's necessarily true," Neville said thoughtfully. "I think you'd need to test it, like putting Seamus and Ginny against a boggart dementor, and trying with people that had never tried the charm, or something like that."

Seamus added, "If it's the memory – maybe the good feelings already present brings out a better memory?"

Harry shrugged, "Did you use the same memory each attempt?"

"No."

Harry shrugged. "Back to Pals. I made a happy discovery in my mail." Harry pulled out of the bag a largish black box that had an opening with a ledge on its front and back. Were a muggleborn girl present there would have been comparisons to the Easy Bake oven. Harry followed the directions on the top, and soon a circular track went on the right side of the box from the front to the back – with a magical counter weight on the left. "This is supposed to be able to take gem fragments and with some added material forge a larger gem certifiable by muggle standards."

Neville added, "It's supposed to be more reliable than forging without, or melding smaller ones, but they have a higher leak rate."

Seamus looked interested, "So a diamond would still be a diamond, just drained of magic?"

Harry nodded, "The box has runes and other focuses that make the transfiguration essentially permanent, it models the process that formed the gem in the first place. So a forged gem by us would fall to pieces, but these don't. However, these become magic sinks for the natural magical properties of the gem. That's why there are so many large cursed diamonds in the muggle world – if they aren't charged with magic they suck it out all the honesty and luck they can – and for muggles it's a natural curse."

Seamus asked, "But it's legal?"

Harry nodded, "Some countries require a positive charge be given, and the machine comes with a special lead chamber to help with that."

Neville added, "But the magic leaks at a higher rate than natural gems, which is why we're only going to manufacture gems for the transfigured Pals. The higher rate of leakage might actually help recovering patients more."

"We're going to need to include a paper on the theory and why the gems will need at least recharged," said Harry.

Seamus broke in, "How do I order some gems? I was going to try to make some of my old plushies into Pals for my cousins."

Harry smiled, "I ordered some more and some plushies, but I still have a few from the first order."

"How steep are they?"

"Cheap really. I can afford a few despite Gran's grip on the purse strings," said Neville.

"Gems for charms and reservoirs can be visibly cloudy and the shape isn't as important. It's actually how goblins maintain their amount of conversion currency, they buy flawed gems from muggles, and sometimes sell forged ones."

Neville laughed, "The African Wizarding Nation has spells that take a percentage of the gems mined on their continent. They only pay like 5 galleons a year in taxes for water spell experts."

Seamus broke in, "While that is fascinating and a plea to force you to spend less time with Granger.."

"As little as a knut or as much as several galleons," said Harry.

"Bigger more expensive?" Seamus asked. Harry nodded. And then Seamus started to dig in the trunk his childhood belongings had been in. Soon he stood, holding a hideous ceramic goblin. Seamus nearly crowed, "Yes!"

Neville said, "That's just cruel, your goblin bank?"

Seamus shook his head, "Mum found that any of my old things brought elsewhere in the house would bring on a version of the curse – she said the only upside was she never had to worry about stepping on a toy car in the kitchen in the middle of the night."

"Do you know how to uncurse the coins?" asked Harry.

Seamus shrugged, "It's not like I'll ever bring a toy to Gringotts."

"A heating charm followed by an ice bath might activate the tamper proof runes," suggested Neville.

Harry nodded, "Won't hurt to try. Just in case. Better to try to prevent any trouble with the goblins."

Dean, in the meantime, had succeeded in the basic charming of the skeleton. "Look guys!" The skeleton dove and saored along with gestures from Dean's hand. And while there was some clatter from the hinges and joints – it stayed in one piece even as Dean brought it down suddenly. After tapping his hand with a wand – Dean asked, "So what do you think?"

"Brilliant!"

"Cool."

"Neat charm!"

Dean grinned, "I'll need Flitwick's help to try to make it turn on and off."

Harry suddenly thought about kids trying fly themselves or their baby siblings. "Does it have a way to keep living things from flying – just the toy?"

"It's a matter of weight, it can take no more than five pounds. But I am working on how the kids can turn it on and off, since they don't have wands."

Neville shook his head, "Only wizarding children could get them then, and then most parents would probably prefer activation with a wand. If they used it in front of muggles they could be charged with muggle baiting."

"What! Even if I do it so it's only at the owner's touch?"

Harry said, "I bought some stuff for my room this summer and it had to be all wand activated too. Any chance of a muggle seeing it requires it, apparently, unless it's on the Accepted List."

Seamus said, "And I don't think they've added to that in a decade."

Harry sighed, "I hope that McGonagall gives us the material that we were supposed to be learning on this stuff."

Dean snorted, "I think you can count on nearly everything that's logical being illegal."

Seamus laughed, "I thought everybody learned that first year, when Harry and Ron nearly got killed by a troll and got points for it."

Dean shrugged, and Harry briefly considered glaring at Seamus, but instead began to work on forging gems.

ooOOoo

Hours later when Seamus's stomach began to protest, Harry turned off the hourglasses from the slight ratio he'd put them on when he'd joined the others. Then he willed a clock to appear and double-checked that Dean wasn't wearing his watch. "Only an hour until dinner, Seamus, did you want to box any of the Pals you got done to be sent to your cousins?"

Seamus followed Harry's gaze to the clock, "Yeah, I think I'll send some to my muggle cousins first."

"Are you charming the collars at all?" asked Harry.

"Well, the retrieval spell is right out. I was thinking of trying a beeper, like those for lost portable phones, but don't know how to link a charm to two separate objects like that. I'm using a preservation charm. I wish there was a notice me not charm for death eaters.""

"I think you should add the self-cleaning and repair charms," said Harry.

Seamus nodded, "I wouldn't want it to be ruined in the wash, but think self-repairing is too much. Maybe a strengthener for the seams and buttons?"

Harry remembered plushies that Dudley had intentionally destroyed just for fun. "Makes sense."

"Most of my Mum's side is still pure-blooded, and stay in Ireland. So they should be fine."

"No DEs there?"

Seamus shook his head, "Too English for it to catch on. Family is more cherished in wizarding Ireland, especially family that was kind enough to move away."

Harry laughed. Seamus raised a hand, "No, really! Ireland has a bigger wizarding population than England, and even a couple of wizarding cities. So there are incentives for younger siblings to go elsewhere. When the population gets too high, the Secrecy Barriers break down."

"Are they bigger than Diagon? The cities I mean?"

Seamus shrugged, "I've never really explored there, usually only errands or a museum."

"There are museums?"

"Same as muggles – famous people's houses, art, history, and a zoo – not that different…"

* * *

The boys saw off six owls for Seamus' youngest cousins, and another for his muggle grandmother. Only she knew of the magical world – and therefore didn't have any compulsion. The others had a conjured card for each Aunt with a compulsion to give the plushie to their youngest immediately, and to make sure to always bring it along. It was a bit sketchy legally, but the cards would disappear soon enough, eliminating the evidence.

Dinner was surprisingly normal, Dumbledore and McGonagall were missing from the head table. Seamus and Dean sat with some fourth years that had been debating Manchester United's chances. Ginny hadn't shown at dinner, and there was some talk of a pickup game lasting all afternoon. Harry paced his meal, so that he'd be ready to go at the same time as the Hufflepuffs from the DA. Madame Sprout wasn't at dinner, normal for when she was closing the greenhouse for a break. Dean and Neville would be going to the greenhouses, while Seamus would try to grab some Ravenclaws, as Harry had no desire to talk to Cho.

Seeing Ernie was finished with his dinner, Harry pulled the DA coin out of his pocket and set the date to Thursday. Then Harry followed Susan, Ernie, and Hannah out of the Great Hall.

* * *

Back in the Room of Requirement, Harry and Seamus led Susan, Hannah, Ernie, Su, and Cho into the room they had used before to make Pals.

"So how did you find out how to do this?" asked Cho.

"Last summer, I was brought before the Wizengamot for protecting myself from Dementors. So this summer I wanted as much passive protection as I could get. The upside to the Pals is that they could help everyone. And they are supposed to help speed healing of dark magical damage, a double plus for kids in the hospital."

Susan hedged, "The only problems I see are the forged gems, and well.. when the Pals lose their spells."

Harry started to answer, but Susan cut him off, "No. I mean I understand there's no money for real gems. Just on Thursday, the forge mustn't be out, Harry. You're supposed to be over 21 to own one and need a permit for use."

Harry sighed, "The craft company didn't have any of that in the catalog."

Susan smiled, "The best craft company is out of Ireland, and they aren't required to pass their owls through customs. Their laws are different too."

Cho said, "The school owns forging equipment, its in the old Enchanting rooms on the third floor. The materials haven't really changed in 500 years."

Hannah chimed in, "They cover the history and detection spells for forged gems in _Witch Weekly_ every year in the Valentine's insert."

"Really?" asked Harry. Apparently Hermione might have missed something by not being a girly girl.

Ernie coughed, "They also post warnings in the February _Wizards Monthly_."

The girls looked scandalized, while Seamus looked impressed, "Ok, what did I miss?"

"You are supposed to be 19 before you can subscribe to WM," explained Seamus. He turned to Ernie, "So how is Page 3?"

Ernie colored a bit, and Harry bit his cheek.

Cho huffed, "Was there any point, Ernie?"

"Well… Yeah. Harry, I'll get you the issue and maybe Hannah can get you the Valentine's insert?"

Harry shrugged, "Might have some other things that the library books left out."

Su Li asked, "What books did you reference? It may be that the seventh years still have the best books out."

"I'll have to check in my dorm. Could you see if there are any they'd especially recommend?"

Su smiled, "I'll see what they have."

Harry smiled, "Thanks. We've done a lot already to set this up, and I don't want to miss something."

Seamus said, "Since Neville got me through the process this afternoon, and now that you all know how to make one, I think we'll have enough people to help people through."

Before curfew, they all completed at least one Pal. Ernie and Seamus went with the girls to the Owlery to send off some of the Pals. Harry stayed behind with a wink and a nod towards forging some more gems.

* * *

_C28 seemed too short, and so I tacked on more of the same Pals stuff here, rather than in 29 - seemed more fitting. _

_Happy New Year._


	29. The Trunks in the Closet

* * *

_Chapter 29 - The Trunks in the Closet_

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what Neville planned to do tonight, as they had changed their plans already with Dean and Seamus, so he waited on setting the hourglasses, and went through his bag – sliding the contents onto an empty table. He set the two trunks Flitwick had given him of his parents' and set them aside. Despite having a year in the Room he'd not opened them – largely forgetting they were even in the voluminous bag he carried.

It would have made it easier for Neville, if he'd been able to use one of the wands, but something inside Harry clenched at the idea. Though it would only be proper to offer, after all, Neville had lost his dad's wand helping save Harry. Forgetfulness had kept it from being an issue before… Harry shook his head, it would only come up if he and Neville were alone anyway – Harry couldn't let anyone else know he'd gotten the trunks. Neville had written Ollivander with the results of a wand test they'd found in an older Muggleborn guide, _The Science Behind Wizardry_, that seemed to be from when the elements were thought of as earth, air, and the like. They hoped that with a note that it would be temporary – until Neville could come in – Ollivander would at least humor the request and send one. Professor Binns had warned them against it, but the test's prediction seemed so logical…

Another thought came to Harry, a lost and found… Over a thousand years surely there was one at some point. He asked the Room, it flashed, and then opened a door into what looked like a storage area full of dust, cobwebs, and the smell of stale air just a bit too dry for mold. Harry thought it odd that the house elves hadn't maintained the room, and as he entered saw the strangest thing – a pile of student trunks each with initials on them. Surely it couldn't be that hard to match them back up. How many students wouldn't notice losing most of their belongings?

Harry said aloud, "Surely you'd claim it, or report it missing immediately?" The Room responded by making a large dusty volume, twice length and width of a normal book appear in front of Harry on a bookstand. The Hogwarts Student Roster Record was embossed in gold on what looked to be a tan leather cover through the dust. Nearly as soon as Harry read the cover the book opened and flipped to a page headed with the title _Expulsions, cont._ At the top of the page was Hagrid – and no names followed the groundskeeper's. Harry flipped the page but it, too, was blank.

The light flashed in the Room and Harry let the Lost & Found door go. When Neville entered, Harry waited a bit, letting Neville activate the hourglasses as he tried to discern what the Room was trying to tell him.

Neville spoke first, "Sprout is mad for it! She nearly clipped the new wood of the Hydrangea she just got in! Good thing we're doing this Thursday – otherwise I'd bet she'd invite the parents."

"What?" Harry's brain took a moment to switch gears and catch up. "Oh. Did you tell her to coordinate with Flitwick?"

"Yes, and she nearly bounced on the way back to the castle. I thought I'd seen her happy – but this was – wow! Apparently she has an OWL only niece and has been worried for her."

"OWL only?" Harry asked, and then smacked his forehead. "Withdrawals, not expulsions!" Harry paged back to the front of the book, and soon had a list of withdrawals, with student year, guardian, and relationship noted.

Harry took a deep breath, and then looked at Neville. "I think I found more plotting."

Neville looked at the book with dread, "Is it murder now?"

Harry shrugged, "At least disappearances or theft. I was wondering about a Lost & Found – most muggle places have them at a reception desk or with security. And I thought maybe there would be a wand in there you could use if Ollivander doesn't come through."

Neville nodded slowly.

"Well, I asked the Room, and…" Harry wished the Room to make the entrance visible again. "The problem is house elves should have cleaned this – unless it was sealed, which it wasn't, or there is something majorly cursed in there."

Neville nodded, "And.."

"And then it occurred to me, maybe you'd be embarrassed to lose your wand or forget a book or sweater at the end of the year... But there is no way you'd forget your trunk."

Neville and Harry stared at the large stack of trunks visible through the open door. "How many?"

"Don't know yet. But it looks like hundreds of names since Dumbledore joined the staff, have quit before NEWTs," Harry started marking the copied list, & numbering some, "And it looks like 31 quit at odd times, and at least 20 of those were from orphanages."

Neville shook his head slowly, "There's no way the staff didn't know."

Harry shrugged, "31 students in 50 some years – and that is if all of these left mysteriously. People apparently drop out from school all the time – for reasons good and non. Though it really makes you wonder how people still think this is such a great school, with so many leaving after fifth year."

Neville shook his head again, "Any that left before the end of fifth year would be marked squibs for life – legally, no appeal. And most families confine their fortunes to magical heirs…"

"Oh." Harry ran a hand through his hair, "I wonder if Binns has gotten anywhere on that."

"The financial laws?"

"Yeah."

Neville made a squashy chair appear in the Room, and plopped down in it. "I don't think Purebloods would approve of it. Perhaps a lesser branch being able to take possession – or only proven purebloods being able to take receipt of heirless estates."

"Would there be any valid reason to deny a squib an estate? You'd think people would at least want it as an option…"

Neville replied, "Most wouldn't have enough magic to survive or control a Wizarding Home for long alone – too many boggarts and other magical vermin pop up that could kill them."

Harry sighed, remembering Grimmauld Place. "What makes a home Wizarding? Wards?"

Neville shrugged, "They help, but it's more gradual. The house changes as Wizards live in it. And if you have magical pets or house elves it really speeds up the absorption rate."

Harry nodded, "But what about muggleborns – like Hermione? How long until her house would be Wizarding?"

"She's likely only done magic before first year, so it should be safe for her parents even with wards. Besides, it doesn't sound like she's really at home much even when she is with her parents. They travel a lot, right?"

Harry mused, "It's a bit odd that her parents let her stay so long with me and Ron, isn't it? Though that was after she and Ginny became friends…"

Neville said, "It's not like she's friends with any other girls. Even her partners for Arithmancy and Runes are boys."

Harry asked the Room for a chair himself, and plopped down across from Neville, "She has to stay in the dark. She never really answered my question, just went off on a tangent. Of course, that's rather like her, but.. " Harry shrugged. "Without a clear statement…"

Neville nodded, "Maybe finding a mind arts book in her birthday gifts would be a good idea. That way if she swears later, she'd be more ready to protect secrets."

Harry smiled, then stood and turned back to the list and the open door to the Lost and Found. Abruptly he nodded to himself, and got his parents' wands out of the rosewood trunk. "Professor Flitwick had my parents' wands. You'll need to be able to scan for traps too."

Neville stood, with a look of shock on his face, and gently took the offered wands from Harry. The Room then popped up two large parchment targets, and Neville cast "Encanto," once with each wand at a different parchment. Then moved up to the parchments, and said, "No spell traces left on your dad's. And only an encanto on your mom's."

"How did you know…" Harry trailed off at the sad look that came across Neville's face.

"Part of the story they tell in the children's history primer," answered Neville. Harry gave a jerky nod.

"Sorry, Harry." Neville then handed Harry his father's wand back. "I think your Mom's wand works best for me."

Harry put back his father's wand, and shook his head to clear it. "Let's start with the newest trunks."

Neville nodded, and they began.

* * *

The stack of trunks closest to the door was the one with the least dust and newest styles of trunks. Neville started detection spells on each trunk, making notes as he went down the stack. Harry began to look for wards on the floor around the stack. After making his way halfway around the stack Harry bopped himself on the head, "I require a list of any magic on or from each trunk, and on the stack and surrounding area. I also require a list of any physical traps or tricks, and any notification methods. Um, and contents of the trunks would be nice too, unless that would set off something…"

A list detailing the contents and curses on each trunk appeared on a large easel next to the stack.

Neville shrugged, "At least I can see if I missed anything."

According to the list, there were no harmful spells on any of the trunks or their contents, or any notification wards. The trunks were identified by owner's name on the Room's list rather than just the initials visible on the trunks. Sirius Black, Creevey, Riddle, and 3 Smiths stood out on the list – the Smiths all matched names of orphans that had possibly been very likely not to have been named Doe as their parents' names were different from their last.

"Why wouldn't Sirius Black have mentioned losing a trunk to you? Being expelled or pressured to quit would have been a big deal…"

Harry shrugged as he stared at the black dragonhide covered trunk that bore a silver medallion with SB over the lock, with silver handles on the ends and side. "Memory charms? It's not empty, so I don't think he ditched it on purpose to get a new one. And it's near the middle – when did Luke Smith leave?"

Neville consulted the list of withdrawn students. "1978."

Harry sighed, "Just have to see if there is anything written inside that will tell us. Looks like there is at least something charmed like their Map was. It has expensive things and a lot of galleons so maybe he stowed it here himself the summer before he ran away. But you'd think he'd at least mentioned it to me or Remus…"

Neville shrugged, "Those handles are real silver. Maybe that would be enough not to mention it, or maybe he hid it somewhere else and thought someone else got it."

Harry nodded, "He did have a younger brother. But from the way this all looks…" Harry sighed, "So from the top."

They carefully levitated the top trunk down, and brought it out of the Lost & Found into the main room along with the list the Room had made. They levitated out each item, placing them on a long white sheet that appeared, laying them from left to right starting with the upper most layers. No spells went off and no traps were sprung. The contents smelled slightly musty as if the preservation charms on the trunk were failing. When the trunk was empty, Neville used the x-ray charm Binns had taught them when they were exploring the experimental lab in the Chamber of Secrets, but despite the name the charm found what was intentionally hidden. It had been developed and well used by an American Cursebreaker by the name of Jones in early part of the century, hence the misleading name. The charm discovered papers secreted in the lining of the trunk.

The trunk belonged to a Charles Smith, whose parents were a wizard and a muggle. The papers were from Gringott's confirming his right of inheritance to the estate of James Cameron, scheduled for July 1, 1978. The next few trunks revealed much the same: robes and charmed clothing, magic books, pictures and other magical possessions. No trainers or loafers, no clothes that could be muggle, no identity papers or trinkets from the muggle world. Tired from their extended day, Harry and Neville locked the Room of Requirement and went to their respective beds.

* * *

First thing after they woke they went back to work on the trunks, which continued to show the same basic components – the wizarding supplies of a student and papers (hidden and not) that indicated the "muggleborn" was the heir of an estate at Gringotts, with an appointment in the summer break. Harry and Neville took a break for showers and breakfast. The list of contents and of the curses made the opening of Sirius's trunk no less daunting. Some seemed geared to Harry's father (antlers) and perhaps others would be negated by a Potter opening the trunk. But he still dreaded what he would find.

Neville seemed to understand, suggesting that they work on the animagus potions before they resumed trunk sorting. But the trunks were the mystery, and even avoiding them couldn't keep them from being a distraction. So finally the boys had worked down to Sirius's trunk. Harry moved the trunk by conjuring a flying pair of tongs to lift it to a empty space that would hopefully not set off any of the older trunks.

"I could open it, Harry."

Harry shook his head, "I know I'm being a wimp, I'll do it." Harry took his wand and tapped the lock, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." His shoulders sagged when nothing happened, and shrugged, "I had to try."

"_Alohomora_."

With a flash and bang, the area around the trunk was covered in glitter and pink smoke. Neville used a fan charm, used for hardening up plants to leave the greenhouse, and Harry was revealed - with a pair of pink antlers on his head, and an open trunk with an envelope addressed to Prongs propped up on the top.

* * *


	30. Beginning of C30 Boxes of Dreams

_Sorry, I've been hitting writer's block on this story. So I'm hoping that posting this little bit will get me going again. If you read C 29 the first time it was posted you might go back and read it as I doubled the length with edits after posting. Thank you to all those who sent wonderful reviews._

C 30 - **Boxes of Dreams**

* * *

Neville was laughing so hard, he nearly fell over. Harry scrambled back from the trunk, "Mirror, please!" And soon was staring at the antlers. Strangely enough, it wasn't until Harry saw the antlers that he felt their weight. "Shit." He reached a hand up and traced the edge of the antlers with his right hand. "Are they glowing?"

Neville caught his breath, "No," he laughed, "they're just covered in glitter!"

Harry sighed, and asked the room for all magic on the trunk or its contents. The list seemed to grow and grow expanding the paper and shrinking the font. Harry groaned. "I can't take this on in less than a day."

"We could reset the time scale," Neville offered, still chuckling.

Harry shook his head. "If we stay in here another day, we'll forget things people said yesterday. With so many students coming, we can't have anybody asking questions about our memories."

Neville shrugged, "There being so many people and the rush to do it before the end of school might actually make it less noticeable if you forgot something. But the number of curses here… It's a good thing we didn't take the anti-aging potion. We can see if the antlers will go away on their own."

Harry laughed a bit darkly, "Knowing Sirius, we better change the scale, it might take more than a day for these to go away."

Neville laughed again, "Given that they just turned purple, that may be a good guess."


End file.
